THE  MYSTERY 


Stewart  Edward 


ana 


Samuel  Hopkins  Adams 


THE    MYSTERY 


And  you  know  a  heap  too  much  " 

[Page  201] 


THE  MYSTERT 

BY 
STEWART  EDWARD  WHITE 

AND 
SAMUEL  HOPKINS  ADAMS 


Illustrations  by  Will  Crawford 

NEW"  YORK 

McCLURE,  PHILLIPS  &  CO. 
MCMVU 


Copyright  1907 

by  McClure,  Phillips  &  Co. 

Published  January  1907 


Copyright  1906  by  Colver  Publishing  House 
Copyright  IQO?  by  The  Phillips  Publishing  Co. 


CONTENTS 


PART   ONE 

THE    SEA    RIDDLE 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  DESERT  SEAS 3 

II.  THE  "  LAUGHING  LASS  " n 

III.  THE  DEATH  SHIP     ........  19 

IV.  THE  SECOND  PRIZE  CREW 25 

V.  THE  DISAPPEARANCE 32 

VI.  THE  CASTAWAYS 38 

VII.  THE  FREE  LANCE 49 


PART   TWO 

THE    BRASS    BOUND    CHEST 

Being  the  story  told  by  Ralph  Slade,  Free 
Lance,  to  the  officers  of  the  United  States 
Cruiser  "  Wolverine." 

I.  THE  BARBARY  COAST 57 

II.  THE  GRAVEN  IMAGE 71 

III.  THE  TWELVE  REPEATING  RIFLES  ....  80 

IV.  THE  STEEL  CLAW 89 


M515753 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

V.  THE  PHILOSOPHER'S  STONE       ....  94 

VI.  THE  ISLAND 105 

VII.  CAPTAIN  SELOVER  LOSES  HIS  NERVE     .      .  113 

VIII.  WRECKING  OF  THE  "  GOLDEN  HORN  "  .     .  124 

IX.  THE  EMPTY  BRANDY  BOTTLE     ....  133 

X.  CHANGE  OF  MASTERS 138 

XL  THE  CORROSIVE 145 

XII.  "  OLD  SCRUBS  "  COMES  ASHORE     ...  162 

XIII.  I  MAKE  MY  ESCAPE 174 

XIV.  AN  ADVENTURE  IN  THE  NIGHT       .     .      .  178 
XV.  FIVE  HUNDRED  YARDS'  RANGE       ...  183 

XVI.  THE  MURDER 189 

XVII.  THE  OPEN  SEA 193 

XVIII.  THE  CATASTROPHE                      ....  201 


PART   THREE 

THE     MAROON 

I.  IN  THE  WARDROOM     .     .     .     .     .     .     .211 

II.  THE  JOLLY  ROGER 217 

III.  THE  CACHE 224 

IV.  THE  TWIN  SLABS 230 

V.  THE  PINWHEEL  VOLCANO 238 

VI.  MR.  DARROW  RECEIVES 245 

VII.  THE  SURVIVORS 254 

VIII.  THE  MAKER  OF  MARVELS 260 

IX.  THE  ACHIEVEMENT 269 

X.  THE  DOOM 278 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  And  you  know  a  heap  too  much  "  ....    Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


A  schooner  comporting  herself  in  a  manner  uncommon 

on  the  Pacific 14 

A  man  who  was  a  bit  of  a  mechanic  was  set  to  work  to 

open  the  chest 30 

"Where  we  goin'?"     "I  brefer  not  to  say".       ...     60 

Slowly  the  man  defined  himself  as  a  shape  takes  form  in 

af°g 74 

"  The  spirit  of  the  wild  beast,  cowed  but  snarling  still "  .     94 
"  These  sheep  had  become  as  wild  as  deer  ".       .      .      .136 

"  Drop  it,  you  fool !" 142 

"  I  jerked  out  the  short-barrelled  Colt  and  turned  it  loose 

in  their  faces  " 168 

"You  good  fellowsh,  ain't  you?" 172 

The  firing  now  became  miscellaneous.     No  one  paid  any 

attention  to  any  one  else 186 

With  a  strangled  cry  the  sailor  cast  the  shirt  from  him     .   222 

The  finding  of  the  two  slabs 236 

"  Sorry  not  to  have  met  you  at  the  door,"  he  said  courte 
ously       250 

"  It  was  my  duty  to  follow  on  and  drag  him  away  when 

he  fell  unconscious  " 266 

He  floated  the  model  in  the  tub 284 

vii 


PART    ONE 
THE    SEA    RIDDLE 


I 

DESERT   SEAS 

THE  late  afternoon  sky  flaunted  its  splendour  of  blue 
and  gold  like  a  banner  over  the  Pacific,  across  whose 
depths  the  trade  wind  droned  in  measured  cadence. 
On  the  ocean's  wide  expanse  a  hulk  wallowed  slug 
gishly,  the  forgotten  relict  of  a  once  brave  and 
sightly  ship,  possibly  the  Sphinx  of  some  untold  ocean 
tragedy,  she  lay  black  and  forbidding  in  the  ordered 
procession  of  waves.  Half  a  mile  to  the  east  of  the 
derelict  hovered  a  ship's  cutter,  the  turn  of  her  crew's 
heads  speaking  expectancy.  As  far  again  beyond,  the 
United  States  cruiser  Wolverine  outlined  her  severe 
and  trim  silhouette  against  the  horizon.  In  all  the 
spread  of  wave  and  sky  no  other  thing  was  visible. 
For  this  was  one  of  the  desert  parts  of  the  Pacific, 
three  hundred  miles  north  of  the  steamship  route  from 
Yokohama  to  Honolulu,  five  hundred  miles  from  the 
nearest  land,  Gardner  Island,  and  more  than  seven 
hundred  northwest  of  the  Hawaiian  group. 

On  the  cruiser's  quarter-deck  the  officers  lined  the 
starboard  rail.  Their  interest  was  focussed  on  the 
derelict. 

"  Looks  like  a  heavy  job,"  said  Ives,  one  of  the 
junior  lieutenants.  "  These  floaters  that  lie  with  deck 
almost  awash  will  stand  more  hammering  than  a  mud 
fort." 


4  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Wish  they'd  let  us  put  some  six-inch  shells  into 
her,"  said  Billy  Edwards,  the  ensign,  a  wistful  ex 
pression  on  his  big  round  cheerful  face.  "  I'd  like  to 
see  what  they  would  do." 

"  Nothing  but  waste  a  few  hundred  dollars  of  your 
Uncle  Sam's  money,"  observed  Carter,  the  officer  of 
the  deck.  "  It  takes  placed  charges  inside  and  out 
for  that  kind  of  work." 

"  Barnett's  the  man  for  her  then,"  said  Ives.  "  He's 
no  economist  when  it  comes  to  getting  results.  There 
she  goes ! " 

Without  any  particular  haste,  as  it  seemed  to  the 
watchers,  the  hulk  was  shouldered  out  of  the  water,  as 
by  some  hidden  leviathan.  Its  outlines  melted  into  a 
black,  outshowering  mist,  and  from  that  mist  leaped 
a  giant.  Up,  up,  he  towered,  tossed  whirling  arms 
a  hundred  feet  abranch,  shivered,  and  dissolved  into  a 
widespread  cataract.  The  water  below  was  lashed  into 
fury,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  mighty  death  agony  beat 
back  the  troubled  waves  of  the  trade  wind.  Only  then 
did  the  muffled  double  boom  of  the  explosion  reach 
the  ears  of  the  spectators,  presently  to  be  followed  by 
a  whispering,  swift-skimming  wavelet  that  swept  ir 
resistibly  across  the  bigger  surges  and  lapped  the 
ship's  side,  as  for  a  message  that  the  work  was  done. 

Here  and  there  in  the  sea  a  glint  of  silver,  a  patch 
of  purple,  or  dull  red,  or  a  glistening  apparition  of 
black  showed  where  the  unintended  victims  of  the 
explosion,  the  gay-hued  open-sea  fish  of  the  warm 
waters,  had  succumbed  to  the  force  of  the  shock.  Of 
the  intended  victim  there  was  no  sign,  save  a  few 
fragments  of  wood  bobbing  in  a  swirl  of  water. 


DESERT    SEAS  5 

When  Barnett,  the  ordnance  officer  in  charge  of  the 
destruction,  returned  to  the  ship,  Carter  complimented 
him. 

"  Good  clean  job,  Barnett.  She  was  a  tough  cus 
tomer,  too." 

"  What  was  she?  "  asked  Ives. 

"  The  Caroline  Lemp,  three-masted  schooner.  Any 
one  know  about  her  ?  " 

Ives  turned  to  the  ship's  surgeon,  Trendon,  a  griz 
zled  and  brief-spoken  veteran,  who  had  at  his  finger's 
tips  all  the  lore  of  all  the  waters  under  the  reign  of 
the  moon. 

"  What  does  the  information  bureau  of  the  Seven 
Seas  know  about  it  ?  " 

"Lost  three  years  ago — spring  of  1901 — got  into 
ice  field  off  the  tip  of  the  Aleutians.  Some  of  the  crew 
froze.  Others  got  ashore.  Part  of  survivors  accounted 
for.  Others  not.  Say  they've  turned  native.  Don't 
know  myself." 

"  The  Aleutians !  "  exclaimed  Billy  Edwards.  "  Great 
Cats!  What  a  drift!  How  many  thousand  miles  would 
that  be?" 

"  Not  as  far  as  many  another  derelict  has  wan 
dered  in  her  time,  son,"  said  Barnett. 

The  talk  washed  back  and  forth  across  the  hulks  of 
classic  sea  mysteries,  new  and  old ;  of  the  City  of  Bos 
ton,  which  went  down  with  all  hands,  leaving  for 
record  only  a  melancholy  scrawl  on  a  bit  of  board  to 
meet  the  wondering  eyes  of  a  fisherman  on  the  far 
Cornish  coast ;  of  the  Great  Queensland,  which  set  out 
with  five  hundred  and  sixty-nine  souls  aboard,  bound 
by  a  route  unknown  to  a  tragic  end;  of  the  Naronic, 


6  THE    MYSTERY 

with  her  silent  and  empty  lifeboats  alone  left,  drifting 
about  the  open  sea,  to  hint  at  the  story  of  her  fate; 
of  the  Huronian,  which,  ten  years  later,  on  the  same 
day  and  date,  and  hailing  from  the  same  port  as  the 
Naronic,  went  out  into  the  void,  leaving  no  trace;  of 
Newfoundland  captains  who  sailed,  roaring  with 
drink,  under  the  arches  of  cathedral  bergs,  only  to 
be  prisoned,  buried,  and  embalmed  in  the  one  icy  em 
brace;  of  craft  assailed  by  the  terrible  one-stroke 
lightning  clouds  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  found  days 
after,  stone  blind,  with  their  crews  madly  hauling  at 
useless  sheets,  while  the  officers  clawed  the  compass 
and  shrieked;  of  burnings  and  piracies;  of  pest  ships 
and  slave  ships,  and  ships  mad  for  want  of  water;  of 
whelming  earthquake  waves,  and  mysterious  suctions, 
drawing  irresistibly  against  wind  and  steam  power 
upon  unknown  currents;  of  stout  hulks  deserted  in 
panic  although  sound  and  seaworthy;  and  of  others 
so  swiftly  dragged  down  that  there  was  no  time  for 
any  to  save  himself;  and  of  a  hundred  other  strange, 
stirring  and  pitiful  ventures  such  as  make  up  the  in 
evitable  peril  and  incorrigible  romance  of  the  ocean. 
In  a  pause  Billy  Edwards  said  musingly: 
"  Well,  there  was  the  Laughing  Lass." 
"  How  did  you  happen  to  hit  on  her  ?  "  asked  Bar- 
nett  quickly. 

"Why  not,  sir?  It  naturally  came  into  my  head. 
She  was  last  seen  somewhere  about  this  part  of  the 
world,  wasn't  she?"  After  a  moment's  hesitation  he 
added:  "From  something  I  heard  ashore  I  judge 
we've  a  commission  to  keep  a  watch  out  for  her  as  well 
as  to  destroy  derelicts." 


DESERT    SEAS  7 

"  What  about  the  Laughing  Lass? "  asked  Mc- 
Guire,  the  paymaster,  a  New  Englander,  who  had 
been  in  the  service  but  a  short  time. 

"  Good  Lord !  don't  you  remember  the  Laughing 
Lass  mystery  and  the  disappearance  of  Doctor  Scher- 
merhorn  ?  " 

"  Karl  Augustus  Schermerhorn,  the  man  whose  ex 
periments  to  identify  telepathy  with  the  Marconi  wire 
less  waves  made  such  a  furore  in  the  papers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  was  only  a  by-product  of  his  mind.  He 
was  an  original  investigator  in  every  line  of  physics 
and  chemistry,  besides  most  of  the  natural  sciences," 
said  Barnett.  "  The  government  is  particularly  inter 
ested  in  him  because  of  his  contributions  to  aerial 
photography/' 

"  And  he  was  lost  with  the  Laughing  Lass?  " 

"Nobody  knows,"  said  Edwards.  "He  left  San 
Francisco  two  years  ago  on  a  hundred-foot  schooner, 
with  an  assistant,  a  big  brass-bound  chest,  and  a  raga 
muffin  crew.  A  newspaper  man  named  Slade,  who 
dropped  out  of  the  world  about  the  same  time,  is  sup 
posed  to  have  gone  along,  too.  Their  schooner  was 
last  sighted  about  450  miles  northeast  of  Oahu,  in 
good  shape,  and  bound  westward.  That's  all  the  rec 
ord  of  her  that  there  is." 

"  Was  that  Ralph  Slade?  "  asked  Barnett. 

"  Yes.  He  was  a  free-lance  writer  and  artist." 

"  I  knew  him  well,"  said  Barnett  "  He  was  in  our 
mess  in  the  Philippine  campaign,  on  the  North  Da 
kota.  War  correspondent  then.  It's  strange  that  I 
never  identified  him  before  with  the  Slade  of  the 
Laughing  Lass." 


8  THE    MYSTERY 

"  What  was  the  object  of  the  voyage  ?  "  asked  Ives. 

"  They  were  supposed  to  be  after  buried  treasure," 
said  Barnett. 

"  I've  always  thought  it  more  likely  that  Doctor 
Schermerhorn  was  on  a  scientific  expedition/'  said 
Edwards.  "I  knew  the  old  boy,  and  he  wasn't  the 
sort  to  care  a  hoot  in  Sheol  for  treasure,  buried  or  un- 
buried." 

"Every  time  a  ship  sets  out  from  San  Francisco 
without  publishing  to  all  the  world  just  what  her  busi 
ness  is,  all  the  world  thinks  it's  one  of  those  wild-goose 
hunts,"  observed  Ives. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Barnett.  "  Flora  and  fauna  of  some 
unknown  island  would  be  much  more  in  the  Scher 
merhorn  line  of  traffic.  Not  unlikely  that  some 
of  the  festive  natives  collected  the  unfortunate  pro 
fessor." 

Various  theories  were  advanced,  withdrawn,  re 
futed,  defended,  and  the  discussion  carried  them 
through  the  swift  twilight  into  the  darkness  which 
had  been  hastened  by  a  high-spreading  canopy  of 
storm-clouds.  Abruptly  from  the  crow's-nest  came 
startling  news  for  those  desolate  seas :  "  Light — ho ! 
Two  points  on  the  port  bow." 

The  lookout  had  given  extra  voice  to  it.  It  was 
plainly  heard  throughout  the  ship. 

The  group  of  officers  stared  in  the  direction  indi 
cated,  but  could  see  nothing.  Presently  Ives  and  Ed 
wards,  who  were  the  keenest-sighted,  made  out  a 
faint,  suffused  radiance.  At  the  same  time  came  a 
second  hail  from  the  crow's-nest. 

"  On  deck,  sir." 


DESERT    SEAS  9 

"  Hello,"  responded  Carter,  the  officer  of  the  deck. 

"  There's  a  light  here  I  can't  make  anything  out 
of,  sir." 

"What's  it  like?" 

"  Sort  of  a  queer  general  glow." 

"  General  glow,  indeed ! "  muttered  Forsythe, 
among  the  group  aft.  "  That  fellow's  got  an 
imagination." 

"Can't  you  describe  it  better  than  that?"  called 
Carter. 

"  Don't  make  it  out  at  all,  sir.  'Tain't  any  regular 
and  proper  light.  Looks  like  a  lamp  in  a  fog." 

Among  themselves  the  officers  discussed  it  inter 
estedly,  as  it  grew  plainer. 

"  Not  unlike  the  electric  glow  above  a  city,  seen 
from  a  distance,"  said  Barnett,  as  it  grew  plainer. 

"  Yes :  but  the  nearest  electric-lighted  city  is  some 
eight  hundred  miles  away,"  objected  Ives. 

"  Mirage,  maybe,"  suggested  Edwards. 

"  Pretty  hard-working  mirage,  to  cover  that  dis 
tance  "  said  Ives.  "  Though  I've  seen  'em " 

"  Great  heavens !  Look  at  that ! "  shouted  Ed 
wards. 

A  great  shaft  of  pale  brilliance  shot  up  toward  the 
zenith.  Under  it  whirled  a  maelstrom  of  varied  radi 
ance,  pale  with  distance,  but  marvellously  beautiful. 
Forsythe  passed  them  with  a  troubled  face,  on  his 
way  below  to  report,  as  his  relief  went  up. 

"  The  quartermaster  reports  the  compass  behaving 
queerly,"  he  said. 

Three  minutes  later  the  captain  was  on  the  bridge. 
The  great  ship  had  swung,  and  they  were  speeding 


io  THE    MYSTERY 

direct  for  the  phenomenon.  But  within  a  few  minutes 
the  light  had  died  out. 

"  Another  sea  mystery  to  add  to  our  list,"  said  Billy 
Edwards.  "  Did  anyone  ever  see  a  show  like  that 
before?  What  do  you  think,  Doc?" 

"  Humph !  "  grunted  the  veteran.  "  New  to  me. 
Volcanic,  maybe." 


II 

THE    LAUGHING   LASS 

THE  falling  of  dusk  on  June  the  3d  found  tired 
eyes  aboard  the  Wolverine.  Every  officer  in  her 
complement  had  kept  a  private  and  personal  lookout 
all  day  for  some  explanation  of  the  previous  night's 
phenomenon.  All  that  rewarded  them  were  a  sky 
filmed  with  lofty  clouds,  and  the  holiday  parade  of  the 
epauletted  waves. 

Nor  did  evening  bring  a  repetition  of  that  strange 
glow.  Midnight  found  the  late  stayers  still  deep  in 
the  discussion. 

"  One  thing  is  certain,"  said  Ives.  "  It  wasn't  vol 
canic." 

"Why  so?":  asked  the  paymaster. 

"  Because  volcanoes  are  mostly  stationary,  and  we 
headed  due  for  that  light." 

"  Yes ;  but  did  we  keep  headed  ?  "  said  Barnett,  who 
was  navigating  officer  as  well  as  ordnance  officer,  in 
a  queer  voice. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir? "  asked  Edwards 
eagerly. 

"  After  the  light  disappeared  the  compass  kept  on 
varying.  The  stars  were  hidden.  There  is  no  telling 
just  where  we  were  headed  for  some  time." 

"  Then  we  might  be  fifty  miles  from  the  spot  we 
aimed  at." 

ii 


12  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Hardly  that/'  said  the  navigator.  "  We  could 
guide  her  to  some  extent  by  the  direction  of  wind 
and  waves.  If  it  was  volcanic  we  ought  certainly  to 
have  sighted  it  by  now." 

"  Always  some  electricity  in  volcanic  eruptions," 
said  Trendon.  "  Makes  compass  cut  didoes.  Seen  it 
before." 

"Where?"  queried  Carter. 

"  Off  Martinique.  Pelee  eruption.  Needle  chased  its 
tail  like  a  kitten." 

"Are  there  many  volcanoes  hereabouts?"  some 
body  asked. 

"We're  in  162  west,  31  north,  about,"  said  Bar- 
nett.  "  No  telling  whether  there  are  or  not.  There 
weren't  at  last  accounts,  but  that's  no  evidence  that 
there  aren't  some  since.  They  come  up  in  the  night, 
these  volcanic  islands." 

"  Just  cast  an  eye  on  the  charts,"  said  Billy  Ed 
wards.  "  Full  of  E.  D.'s  and  P.  D.'s  all  over  the  shop. 
Every  one  of  'em  volcanic." 

"  E.  D.'s  and  P.  D.'s?  "  queried  the  paymaster. 

"  Existence  doubtful,  and  position  doubtful,"  ex 
plained  the  ensign.  "  Every  time  the  skipper  of  one 
of  these  wandering  trade  ships  gets  a  speck  in  his  eye, 
he  reports  an  island.  If  he  really  does  bump  into  a 
rock  he  cuts  in  an  arithmetic  book  for  his  latitude 
and  longitude  and  lets  it  go  at  that.  That's  how  the 
chart  makers  make  a  living,  getting  out  new  editions 
every  few  months." 

"  But  it's  a  fact  that  these  seas  are  constantly  chang 
ing,"  said  Barnett.  "They're  so  little  travelled  that 
no  one  happens  to  be  around  to  see  an  island  born. 


THE    LAUGHING   LASS  13 

I  don't  suppose  there's  a  part  on  the  earth's  sur 
face  more  liable  to  seismic  disturbances  than  this 
region." 

"Seismic!"  cried  Billy  Edwards,  "I  should  say 
it  was  seismic!  Why,  when  a  native  of  one  of  these 
island  groups  sets  his  heart  on  a  particular  loaf  of 
bread  up  his  bread-fruit  tree,  he  doesn't  bother  to 
climb  after  it.  Just  waits  for  some  earthquake  to  hap 
pen  along  and  shake  it  down  to  him." 

"  Good  boy,  Billy,"  said  Dr.  Trendon,  approvingly. 
"  Do  another." 

"  It's  a  fact,"  said  the  ensign,  heatedly.  "  Why,  a 
couple  of  years  back  there  was  a  trader  here  stocked 
up  with  a  lot  of  belly-mixture  in  bottles.  Thought  he 
was  going  to  make  his  pile  because  there'd  been  a  colic 
epidemic  in  the  islands  the  season  before.  Bottles  were 
labelled  'Do  not  shake.'  That  settled  his  business. 
Might  as  well  have  marked  'em  '  Keep  frozen '  in  this 
part  of  the  world.  Fellow  went  broke." 

"  In  any  case,"  said  Barnett,  "  such  a  glow  as  that 
we  sighted  last  night  I've  never  seen  from  any 
volcano." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Trendon.  "  Don't  prove  it  mightn't 
.have  been." 

"  I'll  just  bet  the  best  dinner  in  San  Francisco  that 
it  isn't,"  said  Edwards. 

"You're  on,"  said  Carter. 

"Let  me  in,"  suggested  Ives. 

"  And  I'll  take  one  of  it,"  said  McGuire. 

"  Come  one,  come  all,"  said  Edwards  cheerily. 
"  I'll  live  high  on  the  collective  bad  judgment  of  this 
outfit." 


14  THE    MYSTERY 

"To-night  isn't  likely  to  settle  it,  anyhow,"  said 
Ives.  "  I  move  we  turn  in." 

Expectant  minds  do  not  lend  themselves  to  sound 
slumber.  All  night  the  officers  of  the  Wolverine  slept 
on  the  verge  of  waking,  but  it  was  not  until  dawn  that 
the  cry  of  "  Sail-ho ! "  sent  them  all  hurrying  to  their 
clothes.  Ordinarily  officers  of  the  U.  S.  Navy  do  not 
scuttle  on  deck  like  a  crowd  of  curious  schoolgirls, 
but  all  hands  had  been  keyed  to  a  high  pitch  over  the 
elusive  light,  and  the  bet  with  Edwards  now  served 
as  an  excuse  for  the  betrayal  of  unusual  eagerness. 
Hence  the  quarter-deck  was  soon  alive  with  men  who 
were  wont  to  be  deep  in  dreams  at  that  hour. 

They  found  Carter,  whose  watch  on  deck  it  was, 
reprimanding  the  lookout. 

"  No,  sir/'  the  man  was  insisting,  "  she  didn't  show 
no  light,  sir.  I'd  'a'  sighted  her  an  hour  ago,  sir,  if 
she  had." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  Carter  grimly.  "  Who's  your 
relief?" 

"  Sennett." 

"  Let  him  take  your  place.  Go  aloft,  Sennett." 

As  the  lookout,  crestfallen  and  surly,  went  below, 
Barnett  said  in  subdued  tones : 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  the 
man  were  right.  Certainly  there's  something  queer 
about  that  hooker.  Look  how  she  handles  herself." 

The  vessel  was  some  three  miles  to  windward.  She 
was  a  schooner  of  the  common  two-masted  Pacific 
type,  but  she  was  comporting  herself  in  a  manner  un 
common  on  the  Pacific,  or  any  other  ocean.  Even  as 
Barnett  spoke,  she  heeled  well  over,  and  came  rush- 


A  schooner  comporting  herself  in  a  manner  uncommon 
on  the  Pacific 


THE    LAUGHING   LASS  15 

ing  up  into  the  wind,  where  she  stood  with  all  sails 
shaking.  Slowly  she  paid  off  again,  bearing  away 
from  them.  Now  she  gathered  full  headway,  yet  edged 
little  by  little  to  windward  again. 

"  Mighty  queer  tactics,"  muttered  Edwards.  "  I 
think  she's  steering  herself." 

"  Good  thing  she  carries  a  weather  helm/'  com 
mented  Ives;  who  was  an  expert  on  sailing  rigs. 
"  Most  of  that  type  do.  Otherwise  she'd  have  jibed 
her  masts  out,  running  loose  that  way." 

Captain  Parkinson  appeared  on  deck  and  turned  his 
glasses  for  a  full  minute  on  the  strange  schooner. 

"  Aloft  there,"  he  hailed  the  crow's-nest.  "  Do  you 
make  out  anyone  aboard  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  came  the  answer. 

"Mr.  Carter,  have  the  chief  quartermaster  report 
on  deck  with  the  signal  flags." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Aren't  we  going  to  run  up  to  her?"  asked  Mc- 
Guire,  turning  in  surprise  to  Edwards. 

"  And  take  the  risk  of  getting  a  hole  punched  in  our 
pretty  paint,  with  her  running  amuck  that  way?  Not 
much!" 

Up  came  the  signal  quartermaster  to  get  his  orders, 
and  there  ensued  a  one-sided  conversation  in  the  preg 
nant  language  of  the  sea. 

"What  ship  is  that?" 

No  answer. 

"Are  you  in  trouble?"  asked  the  cruiser,  and 
waited.  The  schooner  showed  a  bare  and  silent  main- 
peak. 

"  Heave  to."  Now  Uncle  Sam  was  giving  orders. 


1 6  THE    MYSTERY 

But  the  other  paid  no  heed. 

"  We'll  make  that  a  little  more  emphatic,"  said 
Captain  Parkinson.  A  moment  later  there  was  the 
sharp  crash  of  a  gun  and  a  shot  went  across  the  bows 
of  the  sailing  vessel.  Hastened  by  a  flaw  of  wind  that 
veered  from  the  normal  direction  of  the  breeze  the 
stranger  made  sharply  to  windward,  as  if  to  obey. 

"  Ah,  there  she  comes,"  ran  the  comment  along  the 
cruiser's  quarter-deck. 

But  the  schooner,  after  standing  for  a  moment,  all 
flapping,  answered  another  flaw,  and  went  wide  about 
on  the  opposite  tack. 

"  Derelict,"  remarked  Captain  Parkinson.  "  She 
seems  to  be  in  good  shape,  too,  Dr.  Trendon !  " 

"  Yes,  sir."  The  surgeon  went  to  the  captain,  and 
the  others  could  hear  his  deep,  abrupt  utterance  in 
reply  to  some  question  too  low  for  their  ears. 

"  Might  be,  sir.  Beri-beri,  maybe.  More  likely 
smallpox  if  anything  of  that  kind.  But  some  of  'em 
would  be  on  deck." 

"Whew!  A  plague  ship!"  said  Billy  Edwards. 
"  Just  my  luck  to  be  ordered  to  board  her."  He  shiv 
ered  slightly. 

"  Scared,  Billy  ? "  said  Ives.  Edwards  had  a  rec 
ord  for  daring  which  made  this  joke  obvious  enough 
to  be  safe. 

"  I  wouldn't  want  to  have  my  peculiar  style  of 
beauty  spoiled  by  smallpox  marks,"  said  the  ensign, 
with  a  smile  on  his  homely,  winning  face.  "  And  I've 
a  hunch  that  that  ship  is  not  a  lucky  find  for  this 
ship." 

"  Then  I've  a  hunch  that  your  hunch  is  a  wrong 


THE    LAUGHING   LASS  17 

one,"  said  Ives.  "  How  long  would  you  guess  that 
craft  to  be?" 

They  were  now  within  a  mile  of  the  schooner.  Ed 
wards  scrutinised  her  calculatingly. 

"  Eighty  to  ninety  feet." 

"  Say  150  tons.  And  she's  a  two-masted  schooner, 
isn't  she?"  continued  Ives,  insinuatingly. 

"  She  certainly  is." 

"  Well,  I've  a  hunch  that  that  ship  is  a  lucky  find 
for  any  ship,  but  particularly  for  this  ship." 

"  Great  Caesar !  "  cried  the  ensign  excitedly.  "  Do 
you  think  it's  her?" 

A  buzz  of  electric  interest  went  around  the  group. 
Every  glass  was  raised ;  every  eye  strained  toward  her 
stern  to  read  the  name  as  she  veered  into  the  wind 
again.  About  she  came.  A  sharp  sigh  of  excited  dis 
appointment  exhaled  from  the  spectators.  The  name 
had  been  painted  out. 

"  No  go,"  breathed  Edwards.  "  But  I'll  bet  another 
dinner " 

"  Mr.  Edwards,"  called  the  captain.  "  You  will  take 
the  second  cutter,  board  that  schooner,  and  make  a  full 
investigation." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Take  your  time.  Don't  come  alongside  until  she 
is  in  the  wind.  Leave  enough  men  aboard  to  handle 
her." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  cruiser  steamed  to  within  half  a  mile  of  the 
aimless  traveller,  and  the  small  boat  put  out.  Not  one 
of  his  fellows  but  envied  the  young  ensign  as  he  left 
the  ship,  steered  by  Timmins,  a  veteran  bo's'n's  mate, 


1 8  THE    MYSTERY 

wise  in  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  sea  ways.  They  saw 
him  board,  neatly  running  the  small  boat  under  the 
schooner's  counter;  they  saw  the  foresheet  eased  off 
and  the  ship  run  up  into  the  wind;  then  the  foresail 
dropped  and  the  wheel  lashed  so  that  she  would  stand 
so.  They  awaited  the  reappearance  of  Edwards  and  the 
bo's'n's  mate  when  they  had  vanished  below  decks,  and 
with  an  intensity  of  eagerness  they  followed  the  re 
turn  of  the  small  boat. 

Billy  Edwards's  face  as  he  came  on  deck  was  a 
study.  It  was  alight  with  excitement;  yet  between  the 
eyes  two  deep  wrinkles  of  puzzlement  quivered.  Such 
a  face  the  mathematician  bends  above  his  paper  when 
some  obstructive  factor  arises  between  him  and  his 
solution. 

"  Well,  sir?  "  There  was  a  hint  of  effort  at  restraint 
in  the  captain's  voice. 

"  She's  the  Laughing  Lass,  sir.  Everything  ship 
shape,  but  not  a  soul  aboard." 

"  Come  below,  Mr.  Edwards,"  said  the  captain. 
And  they  went,  leaving  behind  them  a  boiling  caul 
dron  of  theory  and  conjecture. 


Ill 

THE   DEATH    SHIP 

BILLY  EDWARDS  came  on  deck  with  a  line  of  irritation 
right-angling  the  furrows  between  his  eyes. 

"  Go  ahead/'  the  quarter-deck  bade  him,  seeing  him 
aflush  with  information. 

"  The  captain  won't  believe  me,"  blurted  out  Ed 
wards. 

"  Is  it  as  bad  as  that?"  asked  Barnett,  smiling. 

"  It  certainly  is,"  replied  the  younger  man  seriously. 
"  I  don't  know  that  I  blame  him.  I'd  hardly  believe 
it  myself  if  I  hadn't " 

"  Oh,  go  on.  Out  with  it.  Give  us  the  facts.  Never 
mind  your  credibility." 

"  The  facts  are  that  there  lies  the  Laughing  Lass, 
a  little  weather-worn,  but  sound  as  a  dollar,  and  not 
a  living  being  aboard  of  her.  Her  boats  are  all  there. 
Everything's  in  good  condition,  though  none  too  or 
derly.  Pitcher  half  full  of  fresh  water  in  the  rack. 
Sails  all  O.  K.  Ashes  of  the  galley  fire  still  warm.  I 
tell  you,  gentlemen,  that  ship  hasn't  been  deserted  more 
than  a  couple  of  days  at  the  outside." 

"Are  you  sure  all  the  boats  are  there?"  asked 
Ives. 

"  Dory,  dingy,  and  two  surf  boats.  Isn't  that 
enough  ?  " 

"  Plenty." 

19 


20  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Been  over  her,  inside  and  out.  No  sign  of  col 
lision.  No  leak.  No  anything,  except  that  the  star 
board  side  is  blistered  a  bit.  No  evidence  of  fire 
anywhere  else.  I  tell  you,"  said  Billy  Edwards  pa 
thetically,  "  it's  given  me  a  headache." 

"  Perhaps  it's  one  of  those  cases  of  panic  that  For- 
sythe  spoke  of  the  other  night,"  said  Ives.  "  The  crew 
got  frightened  at  something  and  ran  away,  with  the 
devil  after  them." 

"  But  crews  don't  just  step  out  and  run  around  the 
corner  and  hide,  when  they're  scared,"  objected 
Barnett. 

"  That's  true,  too,"  assented  Ives.  "  Well,  perhaps 
that  volcanic  eruption  jarred  them  so  that  they  jumped 
for  it." 

"  Pretty  wild  theory,  that,"  said  Edwards. 

"  No  wilder  than  the  facts,  as  you  give  them,"  was 
the  retort. 

"  That's  so,"  admitted  the  ensign  gloomily. 

"But  how  about  pestilence?"   suggested  Barnett. 

"  Maybe  they  died  fast  and  the  last  survivor,  after 
the  bodies  of  the  rest  were  overboard,  got  delirious 
and  jumped  after  them." 

"  Not  if  the  galley  fire  was  hot/'  said  Dr.  Trendon, 
briefly.  "  No ;  pestilence  doesn't  work  that  way." 

"  Did  you  look  at  the  wheel,  Billy?  "  asked  Ives. 

"  Did  I !  There's  another  thing.  Wheel's  all  right, 
but  compass  is  no  good  at  all.  It's  regularly  be 
witched." 

"What  about  the  log,  then?" 

"  Couldn't  find  it  anywhere.  Hunted  high,  low, 
jack,  and  the  game;  everywhere  except  in  the  big, 


THE    DEATH    SHIP  21 

brass-bound  chest  I  found  in  the  captain's  cabin. 
Couldn't  break  into  that." 

"  Dr.  Schermerhorn's  chest ! "  exclaimed  Barnett 
"  Then  he  was  aboard." 

"Well,  he  isn't  aboard  now,"  said  the  ensign 
grimly.  "  Not  in  the  flesh.  And  that's  all,"  he  added 
suddenly. 

"No;  it  isn't  all,"  said  Barnett  gently.  "There's 
something  else.  Captain's  orders  ?  " 

"  Oh;  no.  Captain  Parkinson  doesn't  take  enough 
stock  in  my  report  to  tell  me  to  withhold  anything," 
said  Edwards,  with  a  trace  of  bitterness  in  his  voice. 
"  It's  nothing  that  I  believe  myself,  anyhow." 

"  Give  us  a  chance  to  believe  it,"  said  Ives. 

"Well,"  said  the  ensign  hesitantly,  "there's  a 
sort  of  atmosphere  about  that  schooner  that's  almost 
uncanny." 

"Oh,  you  had  the  shudders  before  you  were  or 
dered  to  board,"  bantered  Ives. 

"  I  know  it.  I'd  have  thought  it  was  one  of  those 
fool  presentiments  if  I  were  the  only  one  to  feel  it. 
But  the  men  were  affected,  too.  They  kept  together 
like  frightened  sheep.  And  I  heard  one  say  to  an 
other  :  '  Hey,  Boney,  d'you  feel  like  someone  was 
a-buzzin'  your  nerves  like  a  fiddle-string  ?  '  Now,"  de 
manded  Edwards  plaintively,  "  what  right  has  a  Jackie 
to  have  nerves  ?  " 

"  That's  strange  enough  about  the  compass,"  said 
Barnett  slowly.  "  Ours  is  all  right  again.  The 
schooner  must  have  been  so  near  the  electric  disturb 
ance  that  her  instruments  were  permanently  de 
ranged." 


22  THE    MYSTERY 

"  That  would  lend  weight  to  the  volcanic  theory," 
said  Carter. 

"  So  the  captain  didn't  take  kindly  to  your  go-look- 
see  ?  "  questioned  Ives  of  Edwards. 

"  As  good  as  told  me  I'd  missed  the  point  of  the 
thing,"  said  the  ensign,  flushing.  "  Perhaps  he  can 
make  more  of  it  himself.  At  any  rate,  he's  going  to 
try.  Here  he  is  now." 

"  Dr.  Trendon,"  said  the  captain,  appearing.  "  You 
will  please  to  go  with  me  to  the  schooner." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  surgeon,  rising  from  his  chair 
with  such  alacrity  as  to  draw  from  Ives  the  sardonic 
comment : 

"  Why,  I  actually  believe  old  Trendon  is  excited." 

For  two  hours  after  the  departure  of  the  captain 
and  Trendon  there  were  dull  times  on  the  quarter 
deck  of  the  Wolverine.  Then  the  surgeon  came  back 
to  them. 

"  Billy  was  right,"  he  said. 

"  But  he  didn't  tell  us  anything,"  cried  Ives.  "  He 
didn't  clear  up  the  mystery." 

"That's  what,"  said  Trendon.  "One  thing  Billy 
said,"  he  added,  waxing  unusually  prolix  for  him, 
"  was  truer  than  maybe  he  knew." 

"  Thanks,"  murmured  the  ensign.  "  What  was 
that?" 

"  You  said  '  Not  a  living  being  aboard.'  Exact 
words,  hey  ?  " 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  exclaimed  the  ensign  excitedly. 
"  You  don't  mean  you  found  dead ?  " 

"  Keep  your  temperature  down,  my  boy.  No.  You 
were  exactly  right.  Not  a  living  being  aboard." 


THE    DEATH    SHIP  23 

"  Thanks  for  nothing,"  retorted  the  ensign. 

"  Neither  human  nor  other,"  pursued  Trendon. 

"What!" 

"Food  scattered  around  the  galley.  Crumbs  on  the 
mess  table.  Ever  see  a  wooden  ship  without  cock 
roaches?  " 

"  Never  particularly  investigated  the  matter." 

"  Don't  believe  such  a  thing  exists,"  said  Ives. 

"  Not  a  cockroach  on  the  Laughing  Lass.  Ever 
know  of  an  old  hooker  that  wasn't  overrun  with 
rats?" 

"  No ;  nor  anyone  else.  Not  above  water." 

"  Found  a  dozen  dead  rats.  No  sound  or  sign  of  a 
live  one  on  the  Laughing  Lass.  No  rats,  no  mice.  No 
bugs.  Gentlemen,  the  Laughing  Lass  is  a  charnel 
ship." 

"  No  wonder  Billy's  tender  nerves  went  wrong," 
said  Ives,  with  irrepressible  flippancy.  "  She's  prob 
ably  haunted  by  cockroach  wraiths." 

"  He'll  have  a  chance  to  see,"  said  Trendon.  "  Cap 
tain's  going  to  put  him  in  charge." 

"  By  way  of  apology,  then,"  said  Barnett.  "  That's 
pretty  square." 

"  Captain  Parkinson  wishes  to  see  you  in  his  cabin, 
Mr.  Edwards,"  said  an  orderly,  coming  in. 

"  A  pleasant  voyage,  Captain  Billy,"  said  Ives. 
"  Sing  out  if  the  goblins  git  yer." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Ensign  Edwards,  with  a 
quartermaster,  Timmins,  the  bo's'n's  mate,  and  a  crew, 
was  heading  a  straight  course  toward  his  first  com 
mand,  with  instructions  to  "  keep  company  and  watch 
for  signals  " ;  and  intention  to  break  into  the  brass- 


24  THE    MYSTERY 

bound  chest  and  ferret  out  what  clue  lay  there,  if  it 
took  dynamite.  As  he  boarded,  Barnett  and  Trendon, 
with  both  of  whom  the  lad  was  a  favourite,  came  to  a 
sinister  conclusion. 

"  It's  poison,  I  suppose,"  said  the  first  officer. 

"  And  a  mighty  subtle  sort/'  agreed  Trendon. 
"  Don't  like  the  looks  of  it."  He  shook  a  solemn  head. 
"  Don't  like  it  for  a  damn." 


IV 
THE   SECOND   PRIZE   CREW 

IN  semi-tropic  Pacific  weather  the  unexpected  so  sel 
dom  happens  as  to  be  a  negligible  quantity.  The 
Wolverine  met  with  it  on  June  5th.  From  some  un 
accountable  source  in  that  realm  of  the  heaven-scour 
ing  trades  came  a  heavy  mist.  Possibly  volcanic 
action,  deranging  by  its  electric  and  gaseous  outpour 
ings  the  normal  course  of  the  winds,  had  given  birth 
to  it.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  swept  down  upon  the 
cruiser,  thickening  as  it  approached,  until  presently  it 
had  spread  a  curtain  between  the  warship  and  its 
charge.  The  wind  died.  Until  after  fall  of  night  the 
Wolverine  moved  slowly,  bellowing  for  the  schooner, 
but  got  no  reply.  Once  they  thought  they  heard  a  dis 
tant  shout  of  response,  but  there  was  no  repetition. 

"  Probably  doesn't  carry  any  fog  horn,"  said  Car 
ter  bitterly,  voicing  a  general  uneasiness. 

"  No  log ;  compass  crazy ;  without  fog  signal ;  I 
don't  like  that  craft.  Barnett  ought  to  have  been  or 
dered  to  blow  the  damned  thing  up,  as  a  peril  to  the 
high  seas." 

"  We'll  pick  her  up  in  the  morning,  surely,"  said 
Forsythe.  "  This  can't  last  for  ever." 

Nor  did  it  last  long.  An  hour  before  midnight  a 
pounding  shower  fell,  lashing  the  sea  into  phosphor 
escent  whiteness.  It  ceased,  and  with  the  growl  of  a 

25 


26  THE    MYSTERY 

leaping  animal  a  squall  furiously  beset  the  ship.  Soon 
the  great  steel  body  was  plunging  and  heaving  in  the 
billows.  It  was  a  gloomy  company  about  the  ward 
room  table.  Upon  each  and  all  hung  an  oppression  of 
spirit.  Captain  Parkinson  came  from  his  cabin  and 
went  on  deck.  Constitutionally  he  was  a  nervous  and 
pessimistic  man  with  a  fixed  belief  in  the  conspiracy 
of  events,  banded  for  the  undoing  of  him  and  his. 
Blind  or  dubious  conditions  racked  his  soul,  but  real 
danger  found  him  not  only  prepared,  but  even  eager. 
Now  his  face  was  a  picture  of  foreboding. 

"  Parky  looks  as  if  Davy  Jones  was  pulling  on  his 
string,"  observed  the  flippant  Ives  to  his  neighbour. 

"  Worrying  about  the  schooner.  Hope  Billy  Ed 
wards  saw  or  heard  or  felt  that  squall  coming,"  re 
plied  Forsythe,  giving  expression  to  the  anxiety  that 
all  felt. 

"  He's  a  good  sailor  man,"  said  Ives,  "  and  that's  a 
staunch  little  schooner,  by  the  way  she  handled 
herself." 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  all  right,"  said  Carter  confidently. 
"  The  wind's  moderating  now." 

"  But  there's  no  telling  how  far  out  of  the  course 
this  may  have  blown  him." 

Barnett  came  down,  dripping. 

"  Anything  new  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Trendon. 

The  navigating  officer  shook  his  head. 

"  Nothing.  But  the  captain's  in  a  state  of  mind,"  he 
said. 

"  What's  wrong  with  him?  " 

"  The  schooner.  Seems  possessed  with  the  notion 
that  there's  something  wrong  with  her." 


THE    SECOND    PRIZE   CREW  27 

"Aren't  you  feeling  a  little  that  way  yourself?" 
said  Forsythe.  "  I  am.  I'll  take  a  look  around  before 
I  turn  in." 

He  left  behind  him  a  silent  crowd.  His  return  was 
prompt  and  swift. 

"  Come  on  deck,"  he  said. 

Every  man  leaped  as  to  an  order.  There  was  that 
in  Forsythe's  voice  which  stung.  The  weather  had 
cleared  somewhat,  though  scudding  wrack  still  blew 
across  them  to  the  westward.  The  ship  rolled  heavily. 
Of  the  sea  naught  was  visible  except  the  arching  waves, 
but  in  the  sky  they  beheld  again,  with  a  sickening  sense 
of  disaster,  that  pale  and  lovely  glow  which  had  so 
bewildered  them  two  nights  before. 
•  "  The  aurora !  "  cried  McGuire,  the  paymaster. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  Ives,  with  sarcasm.  "  Dead 
in  the  west.  Common  spot  for  the  aurora.  Particu 
larly  on  the  edge  of  the  South  Seas,  where  they  are 
thick!" 

"Then  what  is  it?" 

Nobody  had  an  answer.  Carter  hastened  forward 
and  returned  to  report. 

"  It's  electrical  anyway,"  said  Carter.  "  The  com 
pass  is  queer  again." 

"  Edwards  ought  to  be  close  to  the  solution  of  it," 
ventured  Ives.  "  This  gale  should  have  blown  him  just 
about  to  the  centre  of  interest." 

"  If  only  he  isn't  involved  in  it,"  said  Carter  anx 
iously. 

"  What  could  there  be  to  involve  him?  "  asked  Mc- 
Guire. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Carter  slowly.    "  Somehow 


28  THE    MYSTERY 

I  feel  as  if  the  desertion  of  the  schooner  was  in  some 
formidable  manner  connected  with  that  light." 

For  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  the  glow  continued.  It 
seemed  to  be  nearer  at  hand  than  on  the  former  sight 
ing;  but  it  took  no  comprehensible  form.  Then  it  died 
away  and  all  was  blackness  again.  But  the  officers 
of  the  Wolverine  had  long  been  in  troubled  slumber 
before  the  sensitive  compass  regained  its  exact  bal 
ance,  and  with  the  shifting  wind  to  mislead  her,  the 
cruiser  had  wandered,  by  morning,  no  man  might 
know  how  far  from  her  course. 

All  day  long  of  June  6th  the  Wolverine,  baffled  by 
patches  of  mist  and  moving  rain-squalls,  patrolled  the 
empty  seas  without  sighting  the  lost  schooner.  The 
evening  brought  an  envelope  of  fog  again,  and  pres 
ently  a  light  breeze  came  up  from  the  north.  An  hour 
of  it  had  failed  to  disperse  the  mist,  when  there  was 
borne  down  to  the  warship  a  flapping  sound  as  of 
great  wings.  The  flapping  grew  louder — waned — 
ceased — and  from  the  lookout  came  a  hail. 

"  Ship's  lights  three  points  on  the  starboard 
quarter.'* 

"  What  do  you  make  it  out  to  be  ?  "  came  the  query 
from  below. 

"  Green  light's  all  I  can  see,  sir."  There  was  a 
pause. 

"  There's  her  port  light,  now.  Looks  to  be  turning 
and  bearing  down  on  us,  sir.  Coming  dead  for  us  " — 
the  man's  voice  rose — "  close  aboard ;  less'n  two  ship's 
lengths  away ! " 

As  for  a  prearranged  scene,  the  fog-curtain  parted. 
There  loomed  silently  and  swiftly  the  Laughing  Lass. 


THE    SECOND    PRIZE    CREW  29 

Down  she  bore  upon  the  greater  vessel  until  it  seemed 
as  if  she  must  ram;  but  all  the  time  she  was  veering 
to  windward,  and  now  she  ran  into  the  wind  with 
a  Castanet  rattle  of  sails.  So  close  aboard  was  she  that 
the  eager  eyes  of  Uncle  Sam's  men  peered  down  upon 
her  empty  decks — for  she  was  void  of  life. 

Behind  the  cruiser's  blanketing  she  paid  off  very 
slowly,  but  presently  caught  the  breeze  full  and  again 
whitened  the  water  at  her  prow.  Forgetting  regula 
tions,  Ives  hailed  loudly: 

"  Ahoy,  Laughing  Lass!  Ahoy,  Billy  Edwards !  " 

No  sound,  no  animate  motion  came  from  aboard 
that  apparition,  as  she  fell  astern.  A  shudder  of  hor 
ror  ran  across  the  Wolverine's  quarter-deck.  A 
wraith  ship,  peopled  with  skeletons,  would  have  been 
less  dreadful  to  their  sight  than  the  brisk  and  active 
desolation  of  the  heeling  schooner. 

"  Been  deserted  since  early  last  night,"  said  Tren- 
don  hoarsely. 

"  How  can  you  tell  that?  "  asked  Barnett. 

"  Both  sails  reefed  down.  Ready  for  that  squall. 
Been  no  weather  since  to  call  for  reefs.  Must  have 
quit  her  during  the  squall." 

"  Then  they  jumped,"  cried  Carter,  "  for  I  saw  her 
boats.  It  isn't  believable." 

"  Neither  was  the  other,"  said  Trendon  grimly. 

A  hurried  succession  of  orders  stopped  further  dis 
cussion  for  the  time.  Ives  was  sent  aboard  the 
schooner  to  lower  sail  and  report.  He  came  back  with 
a  staggering  dearth  of  information.  The  boats  were 
all  there;  the  ship  was  intact — as  intact  as  when  Billy 
Edwards  had  taken  charge — but  the  cheery,  lovable 


30  THE    MYSTERY 

ensign  and  his  men  had  vanished  without  trace  or  clue. 
As  to  the  how  or  the  wherefore  they  might  rack  their 
brains  without  guessing.  There  was  the  beginning  of 
a  log  in  the  ensign's  handwriting,  which  Ives  had 
found  with  high  excitement  and  read  with  bitter  dis 
appointment. 

"  Had  squall  from  northeast/'  it  ran.  "  Double 
reefed  her  and  she  took  it  nicely.  Seems  a  seaworthy, 
quick  ship.  Further  search  for  log.  No  result.  Have 
ordered  one  of  crew  who  is  a  bit  of  a  mechanic  to 
work  at  the  brass-bound  chest  till  he  gets  it  open.  He 
reports  marks  on  the  lock  as  if  somebody  had  been  try 
ing  to  pick  it  before  him." 

There  was  no  further  entry. 

"Dr.  Trendon  is  right/'  said  Barnett  "Whatever 
happened — and  God  only  knows  what  it  could  have 
been — it  happened  just  after  the  squall." 

"  Just  about  the  time  of  the  strange  glow,"  cried 
Ives. 

It  was  decided  that  two  men  and  a  petty  officer 
should  be  sent  aboard  the  Laughing  Lass  to  make  her 
fast  with  a  cable,  and  remain  on  board  over  night. 
But  when  the  order  was  given  the  men  hung 
back.  One  of  them  protested  brokenly  that  he  was 
sick.  Trendon,  after  examination,  reported  to  the 
captain. 

"  Case  of  blue  funk,  sir.  Might  as  well  be  sick. 
Good  for  nothing.  Others  aren't  much  better." 

"  Who  was  to  be  in  charge  ?  " 

"  Congdon,"  replied  the  doctor,  naming  one  of  the 
petty  officers. 

"  He's  my  coxswain,"  said  Captain  Parkinson.  "  A 


A  man  who  was  a  bit  of  a  mechanic  was  set  to  work 
to  open  the  chest 


THE    SECOND    PRIZE    CREW  31 

first-class  man.  I  can  hardly  believe  that  he  is  afraid. 
We'll  see." 

Congdon  was  sent  for. 

"  You're  ordered  aboard  the  schooner  for  the  night, 
Congdon,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Is  there  any  reason  why  you  do  not  wish  to  go  ?  " 

The  man  hesitated,  looking  miserable.  Finally  he 
blurted  out,  not  without  a  certain  dignity : 

"  I  obey  orders,  sir." 

"  Speak  out,  my  man,"  urged  the  captain  kindly. 

"Well,  sir:  it's  Mr.  Edwards,  then.  You  couldn't 
scare  him  off  a  ship,  sir,  unless  it  was  something — 
something " 

He  stopped,  failing  of  the  word. 

"  You  know  what  Mr.  Edwards  was,  sir,  for 
pluck,"  he  concluded. 

"  Was! "  cried  the  captain  sharply.  "  What  do  you 
mean? 

"  The  schooner  got  him,  sir.  You  don't  make  no 
doubt  of  that,  do  you,  sir?"  The  man  spoke  in  a 
hushed  voice,  with  a  shrinking  glance  back  of  him. 

"Will  you  go  aboard  under  Mr.  Ives?" 

"  Anywhere  my  officer  goes  I'll  go,  and  gladly, 
sir." 

Ives  was  sent  aboard  in  charge.  For  that  night,  in 
a  light  breeze,  the  two  ships  lay  close  together,  the 
schooner  riding  jauntily  astern.  But  not  until  morn 
ing  illumined  the  world  of  waters  did  the  Wolverine's 
people  feel  confident  that  the  Laughing  Lass  would  not 
vanish  away  from  their  ken  like  a  shape  of  the  mist 


V 
THE   DISAPPEARANCE 

WHEN  Barnett  come  on  deck  very  early  in  the  morn 
ing  of  June  7th,  he  found  Dr.  Trendon  already  up  and 
staring  moodily  out  at  the  Laughing  Lass.  As  the 
night  was  calm  the  tow  had  made  fair  time  toward 
their  port  in  the  Hawaiian  group.  The  surgeon  was 
muttering  something  which  seemed  to  Barnett  to  be  in 
a  foreign  tongue. 

"Thought  out  any  clue,  doctor?"  asked  the  first 
officer. 

"Petit  Chel—  Pshaw!  Jolie  Celimene!  No,"  mut 
tered  Trendon.  "Marie — Marie — I've  got  it!  The 
Marie  Celeste." 

"Got  what?  What  about  her?" 

"  Parallel  case,"  said  Trendon.  "  Sailed  from  New 
York  back  in  the  seventies.  Seven  weeks  out  was 
found  derelict.  Everything  in  perfect  order.  Captain's 
wife's  hem  on  the  machine.  Boats  all  accounted  for. 
No  sign  of  struggle.  Log  written  to  within  forty- 
eight  hours." 

"  What  became  of  the  crew?  " 

"  Wish  I  could  tell  you.  Might  help  to  unravel  our 
tangle."  He  shook  his  head  in  sudden,  unwonted 
passion. 

"  Evidently  there's  something  criminal  in  her  rec 
ord,"  said  Barnett,  frowning  at  the  fusty  schooner 
astern.  "  Otherwise  the  name  wouldn't  be  painted  out." 

32 


THE   DISAPPEARANCE  35 

"  Painted  out  long  ago.  See  how  rusty  it  is.  Scher- 
merhorn's  work  maybe,"  replied  Trendon.  "  Secret  ex 
pedition,  remember." 

"  In  the  name  of  wonders,  why  should  he  do  it?  " 

"  Secret  expedition,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  Um-ah ;  that's  true,"  said  the  other  thoughtfully, 
"  It's  quite  possible." 

"  Captain  wishes  to  see  both  of  you  gentlemen  in 
the  ward  room,  if  you  please,"  came  a  message. 

Below  they  found  all  the  officers  gathered.  Captain 
Parkinson  was  pacing  up  and  down  in  ill-controlled 
agitation. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  we  are  facing  a  problem 
which,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  without  parallel.  It  is  my 
intention  to  bring  the  schooner  which  we  have  in  tow 
to  port  at  Honolulu.  In  the  present  unsettled  weather 
we  cannot  continue  to  tow  her.  I  wish  two  officers 
to  take  charge.  Under  the  circumstances  I  shall  issue 
no  orders.  The  duty  must  be  voluntary." 

Instantly  every  man,  from  the  veteran  Trendon  to- 
the  youthful  paymaster,  volunteered. 

"  That  is  what  I  expected,"  said  Captain  Parkinson 
quietly.  "  But  I  have  still  a  word  to  say.  I  make  na 
doubt  in  my  own  mind  that  the  schooner  has  twice 
been  beset  by  the  gravest  of  perils.  Nothing  less  would 
have  driven  Mr.  Edwards  from  his  post.  All  of  us- 
who  know  him  will  appreciate  that.  Nor  can  I  free 
myself  from  the  darkest  forebodings  as  to  his  fate 
and  that  of  his  companions.  But  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  peril  I  am  unable  to  make  any  conjecture 
worthy  of  consideration.  Has  anyone  a  theory  to 
offer?" 


34  THE    MYSTERY 

There  was  a  dead  silence. 

"Mr.  Barnett?  Dr.  Trendon?  Mr.  Ives?" 

"  Is  there  not  possibly  some  connection  between  the 
unexplained  light  which  we  have  twice  seen,  and  the 
double  desertion  of  the  ship  ? "  suggested  the  first 
officer,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  have  asked  myself  that  over  and  over.  What 
ever  the  source  of  the  light  and  however  near  to  it 
the  schooner  may  have  been,  she  is  evidently  un 
harmed." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Barnett.  "That  seems  to  vitiate 
that  explanation." 

"  I  thank  you,  gentlemen,  for  the  promptitude  of 
your  offers,"  continued  the  captain.  "  In  this  respect 
you  make  my  duty  the  more  difficult.  I  shall  accept 
Mr.  Ives  because  of  his  familiarity  with  sailing  craft 
and  with  these  seas."  His  eyes  ranged  the  group. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Captain  Parkinson,"  eagerly 
put  in  the  paymaster,  "  but  I've  handled  a  schooner 
yacht  for  several  years  and  I'd  appreciate  the  chance 
of " 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  McGuire,  you  shall  be  the  second 
in  command." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"  You  gentlemen  will  pick  a  volunteer  crew  and 
.go  aboard  at  once.  Spare  no  effort  to  find  records  of 
the  schooner's  cruise.  Keep  in  company  and  watch  for 
signals.  Report  at  once  any  discovery  or  unusual  inci 
dent,  however  slight." 

Not  so  easily  was  a  crew  obtained.  Having  in  mind 
the  excusable  superstition  of  the  men,  Captain  Park 
inson  was  unwilling  to  compel  any  of  them  to  the  duty. 


THE   DISAPPEARANCE  35 

Awed  by  the  mystery  of  their  mates'  disappearance, 
the  sailors  hung  back.  Finally  by  temptation  of  extra 
prize  money,  a  complement  was  made  up. 

At  ten  o'clock  of  a  puffy,  mist-laden  morning'  a 
new  and  strong  crew  of  nine  men  boarded  the  Laugh 
ing  Lass.  There  were  no  farewells  among  the  officers. 
Forebodings  weighed  too  heavy  for  such  open  ex 
pression. 

All  the  fates  of  weather  seemed  to  combine  to  part 
the  schooner  from  her  convoy.  As  before,  the  fog 
fell,  only  to  be  succeeded  by  squally  rain-showers 
that  cut  out  the  vista  into  a  checkerboard  pattern  of 
visible  sea  and  impenetrable  greyness.  Before  evening 
the  Laughing  Lass,  making  slow  way  through  the 
mists,  had  become  separated  by  a  league  of  waves 
from  the  cruiser.  One  glimpse  of  her  between  mist 
areas  the  Wolverines  caught  at  sunset.  Then  wind  and 
rain  descended  in  furious  volume  from  the  southeast. 
The  cruiser  immediately  headed  about,  following  the 
probable  course  of  her  charge,  which  would  be  beaten 
far  down  to  leeward.  It  was  a  gloomy  mess  on  the 
warship.  In  his  cabin,  Captain  Parkinson  was  frankly 
sea-sick:  a  condition  which  nothing  but  the  extreme 
of  nervous  depression  ever  induced  in  him. 

For  several  hours  the  rain  fell  and  the  gale  howled. 
Then  the  sky  swiftly  cleared,  and  with  the  clearing 
there  rose  a  great  cry  of  amaze  from  stem  to  stern  of 
the  Wolverine.  For  far  toward  the  western  horizon 
appeared  such  a  prodigy  as  the  eye  of  no  man  aboard 
that  ship  had  ever  beheld.  From  a  belt  of  marvellous, 
glowing  gold,  rich  and  splendid  streamers  of  light 
spiralled  up  into  the  blackness  of  the  heavens. 


36  THE    MYSTERY 

In  all  the  colours  of  the  spectrum  they  rose  and  fell ; 
blazing  orange,  silken,  wonderful,  translucent  blues, 
and  shimmering  reds.  Below,  a  broad  band  of  paler 
hue,  like  sheet  lightning  fixed  to  rigidity,  wavered  and 
rippled.  All  the  auroras  of  the  northland  blended  in 
one  could  but  have  paled  away  before  the  splendour  of 
that  terrific  celestial  apparition. 

On  board  the  cruiser  all  hands  stood  petrified,  bound 
in  a  stricture  of  speechless  wonder.  After  the  first  cry, 
silence  lay  leaden  over  the  ship.  It  was  broken  by  a 
scream  of  terror  from  forward.  The  quartermaster 
who  had  been  at  the  wheel  came  clambering  down  the 
ladder  and  ran  along  the  deck,  his  fingers  splayed  and 
stiffened  before  him  in  the  intensity  of  his  panic. 

"  The  needle !  The  compass !  "  he  shrieked. 

Barnett  ran  to  the  wheel  house  with  Trendon  at 
his  heels.  The  others  followed.  The  needle  was  sway 
ing  like  a  cobra's  head.  And  as  a  cobra's  head  spits 
venom,  it  spat  forth  a  thin,  steel-blue  stream  of  lucent 
fire.  Then  so  swiftly  it  whirled  that  the  sparks  scat 
tered  from  it  in  a  tiny  shower.  It  stopped,  quivered, 
and  curved  itself  upward  until  it  rattled  like  a  fairy 
drum  upon  the  glass  shield.  Barnett  looked  at 
Trendon. 

"Volcanic?"  he  said. 

"  '  Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  coming  of  the  glory  of 
the  Lord,'  "  muttered  the  surgeon  in  his  deep  bass,  as 
he  looked  forth  upon  the  streaming,  radiant  heavens. 
"  It's  like  nothing  else." 

In  the  west  the  splendour  and  the  terror  shot  to  the 
zenith.  Barnett  whirled  the  wheel.  The  ship  re 
sponded  perfectly. 


THE   DISAPPEARANCE  37 

"  I  though  she  might  be  bewitched,  too,"  he  mur 
mured. 

"  You  may  head  her  for  the  light,  Mr.  Barnett," 
said  Captain  Parkinson  calmly.  He  had  come  from  his 
cabin,  all  his  nervous  depression  gone  in  the  face  of 
an  imminent  and  visible  danger. 

Slowly  the  great  mass  of  steel  swung  to  the  un 
known.  For  an  hour  the  unknown  guided  her.  Then 
fell  blackness,  sudden,  complete.  After  that  radiance 
the  dazzled  eye  could  make  out  no  stars,  but  the  look 
out's  keen  vision  discerned  something  else. 

"  Ship  afire,"  he  shouted  hoarsely. 

"Where  away?" 

"  Two  points  to  leeward,  near  where  the  light  was, 
sir." 

They  turned  their  eyes  to  the  direction  indicated, 
and  beheld  a  majestic  rolling  volume  of  purple  light. 
Suddenly  a  fiercer  red  shot  it  through. 

"  That's  no  ship  afire,"  said  Trendon.  "  Volcano  in 
eruption." 

"And  the  other?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  No  volcano,  sir." 

"  Poor  Billy  Edwards  wins  his  bet,"  said  Forsythe, 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  God  grant  he's  on  earth  to  collect  it,"  replied  Bar 
nett  solemnly. 

No  one  turned  in  that  night.  When  the  sun  of  June 
8th  rose,  it  showed  an  ocean  bare  of  prospect  except 
that  on  the  far  horizon  where  the  chart  showed  no 
land  there  rose  a  smudge  of  dirty  rolling  smoke.  Of 
the  schooner  there  was  neither  sign  nor  trace. 


VI 

THE  CASTAWAYS 

"THIS  ship,"  growled  Carter,  the  second  officer,  to 
Dr.  Trendon,  as  they  stood  watching  the  growing 
smoke-column,  "  is  a  worse  hot-bed  of  rumours  than 
a  down-east  village.  That's  the  third  sea-gull  we've 
had  officially  reported  since  breakfast." 

As  he  said,  three  distinct  times  the  Wolverine  had 
thrilled  to  an  imminent  discovery,  which,  upon  nearer 
investigation,  had  dwindled  to  nothing  more  than  a 
floating  fowl.  Upon  the  heels  of  Carter's  complaint 
came  another  hail. 

"  Boat  ahoy.  Three  points  on  the  starboard  bow." 

"  If  that's  another  gull,"  muttered  Carter,  "  I'll  have 
something  to  say  to  you,  my  festive  lookout." 

The  news  ran  electrically  through  the  cruiser,  and 
all  eyes  were  strained  for  a  glimpse  of  the  boat.  The 
ship  swung  away  to  starboard. 

"Let  me  know  as  soon  as  you  can  make  her  out," 
ordered  Carter. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"There's  certainly  something  there,"  said  For- 
sythe,  presently.  "  I  can  make  out  a  speck  rising  on  the 
waves." 

"  Bit  o'  wreckage  from  Barnett's  derelict,"  mut 
tered  Trendon,  scowling  through  his  glasses. 

38 


THE    CASTAWAYS  39 

"  Rides  too  high  for  a  spar  or  anything  of  that 
sort,"  said  the  junior  lieutenant. 

"  She's  a  small  boat,"  came  in  the  clear  tones  of 
the  lookout,  "  driftin'  down." 

"Anyone  in  her?"  asked  Carter. 

"  Can't  make  out  yet,  sir.  No  one's  in  charge 
though,  sir." 

Captain  Parkinson  appeared  and  Carter  pointed  out 
the  speck  to  him. 

"  Yes.  Give  her  full  speed,"  said  the  captain,  re 
plying  to  a  question  from  the  officer  of  the  deck. 

Forward  leapt  the  swift  cruiser,  all  too  slow  for  the 
anxious  hearts  of  those  aboard.  For  there  was  not 
one  of  the  Wolverines  who  did  not  expect  from  this, 
aimless  traveller  of  desert  seas  at  the  least  a  leading 
clue  to  the  riddle  that  oppressed  them. 

"Aloft  there!" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"  Can  you  make  out  her  build  ?  " 

"  Rides  high,  like  a  dory,  sir." 

"  Wasn't  there  a  dory  on  the  Laughing  Lass?  '* 
cried  Forsythe. 

"  On  her  stern  davits,"  answered  Trendon. 

"  It  is  hardly  probable  that  unattached  small  boats 
should  be  drifting  about  these  seas,"  said  Captain 
Parkinson,  thoughtfully.  "  If  she's  a  dory,  she's  the 
Laughing  Lass's  boat." 

"  That's  what  she  is,"  said  Barnett.  "  You  can  see 
her  build  plain  enough  now." 

"  Mr.  Barnett,  will  you  go  aloft  and  keep  me 
posted  ?  "  said  the  captain. 

The  executive  officer  climbed  to  join  the  lookout. 


40  THE    MYSTERY 

As  he  ascended,  those  below  saw  the  little  craft  rise 
high  and  slow  on  a  broad  swell. 

"  Same  dory,"  said  Trendon.  "  I'd  swear  to  her  in 
Constantinople." 

"  What  else  could  she  be  ?  "  muttered  Forsythe. 

"  Somethin'  that  looks  like  a  man  in  the  bottom  of 
her,"  sang  out  the  crow's-nest.  "  Two  of  'em,  I  think." 

For  five  minutes  there  was  stillness  aboard,  broken 
only  by  an  occasional  low-voiced  conjecture.  Then 
from  aloft : 

"  Two  men  rolling  in  the  bottom." 

"Are  they  alive?" 

"  No,  sir;  not  that  I  can  see." 

The  wind,  which  had  been  extremely  variable  since 
dawn,  now  whipped  around  a  couple  of  points,  swing 
ing  the  J)oat's  stern  to  them.  Barnet,  putting  aside  his 
glass  for  a  moment,  called  down : 

"  That's,  the  one,  sir.  I  can  make  out  the  name." 

"  Good,"  said  the  captain  quietly.  "  We  should 
have  news,  at  least." 

"  Ives  or  McGuire,"  suggested  Forsythe,  in  low 
tones. 

"  Or  Billy  Edwards,"  amended  Carter. 

"  Not  Edwards,"  said  Trendon. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  demanded  Forsythe. 

"  Dory  was  aboard  when  we  found  her  the  second 
time,  after  Edwards  had  left." 

"  Can  you  make  out  which  of  the  men  are  in  her?  " 
hailed  the  captain. 

"  Don't  think  it's  any  of  our  people,"  came  the 
astonishing  reply  from  Barnett. 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 


THE    CASTAWAYS  41 

"  I  can  see  only  one  man's  face,  sir.  It  isn't  Ives 
or  McGuire.  He's  a  stranger  to  me." 

"  It  must  be  one  of  the  crew,  then." 

"  No,  sir,  beg  your  parding,"  called  the  lookout. 
"  Nothin'  like  that  in  our  crew,  sir." 

The  boat  came  down  upon  them  swiftly.  Soon  the 
quarter-deck  was  looking  into  her.  She  was  of  a  type 
common  enough  on  the  high  seas,  except  that  a  step 
for  a  mast  showed  that  she  had  presumably  been  used 
for  skimming  about  open  shores.  Of  her  passengers, 
one  lay  forward,  prone  and  quiet.  A  length  of  sail 
cloth  spread  over  him  made  it  impossible  to  see  his 
garb.  At  his  breast  an  ugly  protuberance,  outlined 
vaguely,  hinted  a  deformity. 

The  other  sprawled  aft,  and  at  a  nearer  sight  of 
him  some  of  the  men  broke  out  into  nervous  titters. 
There  was  some  excuse,  for  surely  such  a  scarecrow 
had  never  before  been  the  sport  of  wind  and  wave. 
A  thing  of  shreds  he  was,  elaborately  ragged,  a  face 
overrun  with  a  scrub  of  beard,  and  preternaturally 
drawn,  surmounted  by  a  stiff-dried,  dirty,  cloth  semi- 
turban,  with  a  wide,  forbidding  stain  along  the  side, 
worked  out  the  likeness  to  a  make-up. 

"  My  God ! "  cackled  Forsythe  with  an  hysterical 
explosion ;  and  again,  "  My  God !  " 

A  long-drawn,  irrepressible  aspiration  of  expectancy 
rose  from  the  warship's  decks  as  the  stranger  raised 
his  haggard  face,  turned  eyes  unseeingly  upon  them, 
and  fell  back.  The  forward  occupant  stirred  not,  save 
as  the  boat  rolled. 

From  between  decks  someone  called  out,  sharply,  an 
order.  In  the  grim  silence  it  seemed  strangely  incon- 


42  THE    MYSTERY 

gruous  that  the  measured  business  of  a  ship's  life 
should  be  going  forward  as  usual.  Something  within 
the  newcomer's  consciousness  stirred  to  that  voice  of 
authority.  Mechanically,  like  some  huge,  hideous  toy, 
he  raised  first  one  arm,  then  the  other,  and  hitched 
himself  halfway  up  on  the  stern  seat.  His  mouth 
opened.  His  face  wrinkled.  He  seemed  groping  for 
the  meaning  of  a  joke  at  which  he  knew  he  ought  to 
laugh.  Suddenly  from  his  lips  in  surprising  volume, 
raucous,  rasping,  yet  with  a  certain  rollicking  deviltry 
fit  to  set  the  head  a-tilt,  burst  a  chanty : 

"  Oh,  their  cofHn  was  their  ship,  and  their  grave  it  was 

the  sea: 

Blow  high,  blow  low,  what  care  we! 
And  the  quarter  that  we  gave  them  was  to  sink  them  in 

the   sea: 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbaree-ee." 

Long-drawn,  like  the  mockery  of  a  wail,  the  minor 
cadence  wavered  through  the  stillness,  and  died  away. 

"The  High  Barbaree!"  cried  Trendon. 

"You  know  it?"  asked  the  captain,  expectant  of 
a  clue. 

"  One  of  those  cursed  tunes  you  can't  forget,"  said 
the  surgeon.  "  Heard  a  scoundrel  of  a  beach-comber 
sing  it  years  ago.  Down  in  New  Zealand,  that  was. 
When  the  fever  rose  on  him  he'd  pipe  up.  Used  to 
beat  time  with  a  steel  hook  he  wore  in  place  of  a  hand. 
The  thing  haunted  me  till  I  was  sorry  I  hadn't  let  the 
rascal  die.  This  creature  might  have  learned  it  from 
him.  Howls  it  out  exactly  like." 


THE    CASTAWAYS  43 

"I  don't  see  that  that  helps  us  any,"  said  For- 
sythe,  looking  down  on  the  preparations  that  were 
making  to  receive  the  unexpected  guests. 

With  a  deftness  which  had  made  the  Wolverine 
famous  in  the  navy  for  the  niceties  of  seamanship,  the 
great  cruiser  let  down  her  tackle  as  she  drew  skilfully 
alongside,  and  made  fast,  preparatory  to  lifting  the 
dory  gently  to  her  broad  deck.  But  before  the  order 
came  to  hoist  away,  one  of  the  jackies  who  had  gone 
down  drew  the  covering  back  from  the  still  figure 
forward,  and  turned  it  over.  With  a  half-stifled  cry 
he  shrank  back.  And  at  that  the  tension  of  soul  and 
mind  on  the  Wolverine  snapped,  breaking  into  out 
cries  and  sudden,  sharp  imprecations.  The  face  re 
vealed  was  that  of  Timmins,  the  bo's'n's  mate,  who  had 
sailed  with  the  first  vanished  crew.  A  life  preserver 
was  fastened  under  his  arms.  He  was  dead. 

"  I'm  out,"  said  the  surgeon  briefly,  and  stood  with 
mouth  agape.  Never  had  the  disciplined  Wolverines 
performed  a  sea  duty  with  so  ragged  a  routine  as  the 
getting  in  of  the  boat  containing  the  live  man  and 
the  dead  body.  The  dead  seaman  was  reverently 
disposed  and  covered.  As  to  the  survivor  there  was 
some  hesitancy  on  the  part  of  the  captain,  who  was 
inclined  to  send  him  forward  until  Dr.  Trendon,  after 
a  swift  scrutiny,  suggested  that  for  the  present,  at 
least,  he  be  berthed  aft.  They  took  the  stranger  to  Ed- 
wards's  vacant  room,  where  Trendon  was  closeted 
with  him  for  half  an  hour.  When  he  emerged  he  was 
beset  with  questions. 

"  Can't  give  any  account  of  himself  yet,"  said  the 
surgeon.  "  Weak  and  not  rightly  conscious." 


44  THE    MYSTERY 

"What  ails  him?" 

"  Enough.  Gash  in  his  scalp.  Fever.  Thirst  and  ex 
haustion.  Nervous  shock,  too,  I  think." 

"  How  came  he  aboard  the  Laughing  Lass? " 
"Does  he  know  anything  of  Billy?"  "Was  he  a 
stow-away  ?  "  "  Did  you  ask  him  about  Ives  and  Mc- 
Guire?"  "How  came  he  in  the  small  boat?" 
"  Where  are  the  rest?" 

"  Now,  now,"  said  the  veteran  chidingly.  "  How 
can  I  tell?  Would  you  have  me  kill  the  man  with 
questions  ?  " 

He  left  them  to  look  at  the  body  of  the  boVn's  mate. 
Not  a  word  had  he  to  say  when  he  returned.  Only  the 
captain  got  anything  out  of  him  but  growling  and 
unintelligible  expressions,  which  seemed  to  be  objurga 
tory  and  to  express  bewildered  cogitation. 

"How  long  had  poor  Timmins  been  drowned?" 
the  captain  had  asked  him,  and  Trendon  replied: 

"  Captain  Parkinson,  the  man  wasn't  drowned.  No 
water  in  his  lungs." 

"  Not  drowned !  Then  how  came  he  by  his  death  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  to  diagnose  it  under  any  other  condi 
tions  I  should  say  that  he  had  inhaled  flames." 

Then  the  two  men  stared  at  each  other  in  blank 
impotency.  Meantime  the  scarecrow  was  showing 
signs  of  returning  consciousness  and  a  message  was 
dispatched  for  the  physician.  On  his  way  he  met 
Barnett,  who  asked  and  received  permission  to  ac 
company  him.  The  stranger  was  tossing  restlessly  in 
his  bunk,  opening  and  shutting  his  parched  mouth  in 
silent,  piteous  appeal  for  the  water  that  must  still  be 
doled  to  him  parsimoniously. 


THE    CASTAWAYS  45 

"I  think  I'll  try  him  with  a  little  brandy,"  said 
Trendon,  and  sent  for  the  liquor. 

Barnett  raised  the  patient  while  the  surgeon  held 
the  glass  to  his  lips.  The  man's  hand  rose,  waveredr 
and  clasped  the  glass. 

"All  right,  my  friend.  Take  it  yourself,  if  you 
like,"  said  Trendon. 

The  fingers  closed.  Tremulously  held,  the  little  glass 
tilted  and  rattled  against  the  teeth.  There  was  one 
deep,  eager  spasm  of  swallowing.  Then  the  fevered 
eyes  opened  upon  the  face  of  the  Wolverine's  first 
officer. 

"  Prosit,  Barnett,"  said  the  man,  in  a  voice  like  the 
rasp  of  rusty  metal. 

The  navy  man  straightened  up  as  from  a  blow  un 
der  the  jaw. 

"  Be  careful  what  you  are  about,"  warned  Trendon, 
addressing  his  superior  officer  sharply,  for  Barnett 
had  all  but  let  his  charge  drop.  His  face  was  a  puck 
ered  mask  of  amaze  and  incredulity. 

"  Did  you  hear  him  speak  my  name — or  am  I 
dreaming?"  he  half  whispered. 

"  Heard  him  plain  enough.  Who  is  he?  " 

The  man's  eyes  closed,  but  he  smiled  a  little — a  sin 
gular,  wry-mouthed,  winning  smile.  With  that  there 
sprung  from  behind  the  brush  of  beard,  filling  out  the 
deep  lines  of  emaciation,  a  memory  to  the  recognition 
of  Barnett;  a  keen  and  gay  countenance  that  whisked 
him  back  across  seven  years  time  to  the  days  of  Dewey 
and  the  Philippines. 

"  Ralph  Slade,  by  the  Lord! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Of  the  Laughing  Lass?  "  cried  Trendon. 


46  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Of  the  Laughing  Lass." 

Such  a  fury  of  eagerness  burned  in  the  face  of 
Barnett  that  Trendon  cautioned  him.  "  See  here,  Mr. 
Barnett,  you're  not  going  to  fire  a  broadside  of  dis 
turbing  questions  at  my  patient  yet  a  while.  He's  in 
no  condition." 

But  it  was  from  the  other  that  the  questions  came. 
Opening  his  eyes  he  whispered,  "The  sailor? 
Where?" 

"  Dead,"  said  Trendon  bluntly.  Then,  breaking  his 
own  rule  of  repression,  he  asked: 

"Did  he  come  off  the  schooner  with  you?" 

"  Picked  him  up,"  was  the  straining  answer. 
"  Drifting." 

The  survivor  looked  around  him,  then  into  Bar- 
nett's  face,  and  his  mind  too,  traversed  the  years. 

"  North  Dakota?  "  he  queried. 

"  No ;  I've  changed  my  ship,"  said  Barnett.  "  This 
is  the  Wolverine!' 

"  Where's  the  Laughing  Lass?  " 

Barnett  shook  his  head. 

"  Tell  me,"  begged  Slade. 

"  Wait  till  you're  stronger,"  admonished  Trendon. 

"  Can't  wait,"  said  the  weak  voice.  The  eyes  grew 
wild. 

"  Mr.  Barnett,  tell  him  the  bare  outline  and  make  it 
short,"  said  the  surgeon. 

"  We  sighted  the  Laughing  Lass  two  days  ago.  She 
was  in  good  shape,  but  deserted.  That  is,  we  thought 
she  was  deserted." 

The  man  nodded  eagerly. 

"  I  suppose  you  were  aboard,"  said  Barnett,  and 


THE    CASTAWAYS  47 

Trendon  made  a  quick  gesture  of  impatience  and  re 
buke. 

"  No,"  said  Slade.  "  Left  three— four— don't  know 
how  many  nights  ago." 

The  officers  looked  at  each  other.  "  Go  on,"  said 
Trendon  to  his  companion. 

"  We  put  a  crew  aboard  in  command  of  an  ensign," 
continued  Barnett,  "  and  picked  up  the  schooner  the 
next  night,  deserted.  You  must  know  about  it.  Where 
is  Billy  Edwards?" 

"  Never  heard  of  him,"  whispered  the  other. 

"  Ives  and  McGuire,  then.  They  were  there 

after Great  God,  man !  "  he  cried,  his  agitation 

breaking  out,  "  Pull  yourself  together !  Give  us 
something  to  go  on." 

"Mr.  Barnett!"  said  the  surgeon  peremptorily. 

But  the  suggestion  was  working  in  the  sick  man's 
brain.  He  turned  to  the  officers  a  face  of  horror. 

"  Your  man,  Edwards — the  crew — they  left  her  ?  In 
the  night  ?  " 

"What  does  he  mean?"  cried  Barnett. 

"The  light!  You  saw  it?" 

"  Yes ;  we  saw  a  strange  light,"  answered  Trendon 
soothingly.  Slade  half  rose.  "Lost;  all  lost!"  he 
cried,  and  fell  back  unconscious.  Trendon  exploded 
into  curses.  "  See  what  you've  done  to  my  patient," 
he  fumed.  Barnett  looked  at  him  with  contrite  eyes. 

"  Better  get  out  before  he  comes  to,"  growled  the 
surgeon.  "Nice  way  to  treat  a  man  half  dead  of  ex 
haustion." 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  Slade  came  back  to 
the  world  again.  The  doctor  forbade  him  to  attempt 


48  THE    MYSTERY 

speech.  But  of  one  thing  he  would  not  be  denied. 
There  was  a  struggle  for  utterance,  then : 

"  The  volcano  ?  "  he  rasped  out. 

"  Dead  ahead,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Stand  by ! "  grasped  Slade.  He  strove  to  rise,  to 
say  something  further,  but  endurance  had  reached  its 
limit.  The  man  was  utterly  done. 

Dr.  Trendon  went  on  deck,  his  head  sunk  between 
his  shoulders.  For  a  minute  he  was  in  earnest  talk 
with  the  captain.  Presently  the  Wolverine's  engines 
slowed  down,  and  she  lay  head  to  the  waves,  with 
just  enough  turn  of  the  screw  to  hold  her  against 
the  sea-way. 


VII 
THE   FREE   LANCE 

BY  the  following  afternoon  Dr.  Trendon  reported  hi$ 
patient  as  quite  recovered. 

"  Starved  for  water,"  proffered  the  surgeon.  "  Tis 
sues  fairly  dried  out.  Soaked  him  up.  Fed  him  broth. 
Put  him  to  sleep.  He's  all  right.  Just  wakes  up  to  eat ; 
then  off  again  like  a  two-year  old.  Wonderful  con 
stitution." 

"  The  gentleman  wants  to  know  if  he  can  come  on 
deck,  sir,"  saluted  an  orderly. 

"  Waked  up,  eh.  Come  on,  Barnett.  Help  me  boost 
him  on  deck." 

The  two  officers  disappeared  to  return  in  a  moment 
arm-in-arm  with  Ralph  Slade. 

Nearly  twenty-four  hours'  rest  and  skilful  treat 
ment  had  done  wonders.  He  was  still  a  trifle 
weak  and  uncertain,  was  still  a  little  glad  to  lean  on 
the  arms  of  his  companions,  but  his  eye  was  bright 
and  alert,  and  his  hollow  cheeks  mounted  a  slight 
colour.  This,  with  the  clothes  lent  him  by  Barnett, 
transformed  his  appearance,  and  led  Captain  Parkin 
son  to  congratulate  himself  that  he  had  not  obeyed 
his  first  impulse  to  send  the  castaway  forward  with 
the  men. 

The  officers  pressed  forward. 

"  Mighty  glad  to  see  you  out."  "  Hope  you've  got 

49 


50  THE    MYSTERY 

your  pins  under  you  again."  "  Old  man,  I'm  mighty 
glad  we  came  along." 

The  chorus  of  greeting  was  hearty  enough,  but  the 
journalist  barely  paid  the  courtesy  of  acknowledgment. 
His  eye  swept  the  horizon  eagerly  until  it  rested  on 
the  cloud  of  volcanic  smoke  billowing  up  across  the 
setting  sun.  A  sigh  of  relief  escaped  him. 

"  Where  are  we?  "  he  asked  Barnett.  "  I  mean  since 
you  picked  me  up.  How  long  ago  was  that,  anyway?  " 

"  Yesterday,"  replied  the  navigating  officer. 
"  We've  stood  off  and  on,  looking  for  some  of  our 
men." 

"  Then  that's  the  same  volcano—" 

Barnett  laughed  softly.  "Well,  they  aren't  quite 
holding  a  caucus  of  volcanoes  down  in  this  country. 
One  like  that  is  enough." 

But  Slade  brushed  the  remark  aside. 

"Head  for  it!"  he  cried  excitedly.  "We  may  be 
in  time !  There's  a  man  on  that  island." 

"A  man!"  "Another!"  "Not  Billy  Edwards?" 
"  Not  some  of  our  boys?  " 

Slade  stared  at  them  bewildered. 

"  Hold  on,"  interposed  Dr.  Trendon  authoritatively. 
"  What's  his  name?  "  he  inquired  of  the  journalist. 

"  Darrow,"  replied  the  latter.  "  Percy  Darrow.  Do 
you  know  him?  " 

"  Who  in  Kamschatka  is  Percy  Darrow  ? "  de 
manded  Forsythe. 

"  Why,  he's  the  assistant.  "  It's  a  long  story " 

"  Of  course,  it's  a  long  story.  There's  a  lot  we  want 
to  know,"  interrupted  Captain  Parkinson.  "  Quarter 
master,  head  for  the  volcano  yonder.  Mr.  Slade,  we 


THE    FREE   LANCE  51 

want  to  know  where  you  came  from;  and  why  you 
left  the  schooner,  and  who  Percy  Darrow  is.  And 
there's  dinner,  so  we'll  just  adjourn  to  the  messroom 
and  hear  what  you  can  tell  us.  But  there's  one  thing 
we're  all  anxious  to  know ;  how  came  you  in  the  dory 
which  we  found  and  left  on  the  Laughing  Lass  no 
later  than  two  days  ago  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  set  eyes  on  the  Laughing  Lass  for — 
well,  I  don't  know  how  long,  but  it's  five  days  anyway, 
perhaps  more,"  replied  Slade. 

They  stared  at  him  incredulously. 

"Oh,  I  see!"  he  burst  out  suddenly;  "there  were 
twin  dories  on  the  schooner.  The  other  one's  still 
there,  I  suppose.  Did  you  find  her  on  the  stern 
davits?" 

"  Yes." 

"  That's  it,  then.  You  see  when  I  left " 

Captain  Parkinson's  raised  hand  checked  him.  "  If 
you  will  be  so  good,  Mr.  Slade,  let  us  have  it  all  at 
once,  after  mess." 

At  table  the  young  officers,  at  a  sharp  hint  from 
Dr.  Trendon,  conversed  on  indifferent  subjects  until 
the  journalist  had  partaken  heartily  of  what  the 
physician  allowed  him.  Slade  ate  with  keen  appre 
ciation. 

"  I  tell  you,  that's  good,"  he  sighed,  when  he  had 
finished.  "  Real,  live,  after-dinner  coffee,  too.  Why, 
gentlemen,  I  haven't  eaten  a  civilised  meal,  with  all  the 
trimmings,  for  over  two  years.  Doctor,  do  you  think 
a  little  of  the  real  stuff  would  hurt  me?  It's  a  pretty 
dry  yarning." 

"  One  glass,"  growled  the  surgeon,  "  no  more." 


52  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Scotch  high-ball,  then,"  voted  Slade,  "  the  higher 
the  better." 

The  steward  brought  a  tall  glass  with  ice,  in  which 
the  newcomer  mixed  his  drink.  Then  for  quite  a 
minute  he  sat  silent,  staring  at  the  table,  his  fingers 
aimlessly  rubbing  into  spots  of  wetness  the  water 
beads  as  they  gathered  on  the  outside  of  his  glass.  Sud 
denly  he  looked  up. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  begin,"  he  confessed.  "  It's 
too  confounded  improbable.  I  hardly  believe  it  my 
self,  now  that  I'm  sitting  here  in  human  clothes,  sur 
rounded  by  human  beings.  Old  Scrubs,  and  the  Nig 
ger,  and  Handy  Solomon,  and  the  Professor,  and  the 
chest,  and  the — well,  they  were  real  enough  when  I 
was  caught  in  the  mess.  But  I  warn  you,  you  are 
not  going  to  believe  me,  and  hanged  if  I  blame  you 
a  bit." 

"  We've  seen  marvels  ourselves  in  the  last  few 
days,"  encouraged  Captain  Parkinson. 

"  Fire  ahead,  man,"  advised  Barnett  impatiently. 
"  Just  begin  at  the  beginning  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

Slade  sipped  at  his  glass  reflectively. 

"  Well,"  said  he  at  length,  "  the  best  way  to  begin 
is  to  show  you  how  I  happened  to  be  mixed  up  in  it 
at  all." 

The  officers  unconsciously  relaxed  into  attitudes  of 
greater  ease.  Overhead  the  lamps  swayed  gently  to 
the  swell.  The  dull  throb  of  the  screw  pulsated. 
Stewards  clad  in  white  moved  noiselessly,  filling  the 
glasses,  deferentially  striking  lights  for  the  smokers, 
clearing  away  the  last  dishes  of  the  repast. 

"  I'm  a  reporter  by  choice,  and  a  detective  by  in- 


THE    FREE   LANCE  53 

stinct,"  began  Slade,  with  startling  abruptness.  "  Fur 
thermore,  I'm  pretty  well  off.  I'm  what  they  call  a 
free  lance,  for  I  have  no  regular  desk  on  any  of  the 
journals.  I  generally  turn  my  stuff  in  to  the  Star  be 
cause  they  treat  me  well.  In  return  it  is  pretty  well 
understood  between  us  that  I'm  to  use  my  judgment 
in  regard  to  '  stories '  and  that  they'll  stand  back  of 
me  for  expenses.  You  see,  I've  been  with  them  quite 
a  while." 

He  looked  around  the  circle  as  though  in  appeal 
to  the  comprehension  of  his  audience.  Some  of  the 
men  nodded.  Others  sipped  from  their  glasses  or  drew 
at  their  cigars. 

"  I  loaf  around  here  and  there  in  the  world,  hav 
ing  a  good  time  travelling,  visiting,  fooling  around. 
Every  once  in  a  while  something  interests  me.  The 
thing  is  a  sort  of  instinct.  I  run  it  down.  If  it's  a 
good  story,  I  send  it  in.  That's  all  there  is  to  it."  He 
laughed  slightly.  "  You  see,  I'm  a  sort  of  magazine 
writer  in  method,  but  my  stuff  is  newspaper  stuff. 
Also  the  game  suits  me.  That's  why  I  play  it.  That's 
why  I'm  here.  I  have  to  tell  you  about  myself  this  way 
so  you  will  understand  how  I  came  to  be  mixed  up  in 
this  Laughing  Lass  matter." 

"  I  remember,"  commented  Barnett,  "  that  when  you 
came  aboard  the  South  Dakota,  you  had  a  little  trouble 
making  Captain  Arnold  see  it."  He  turned  to  the  others 
with  a  laugh.  "  He  had  all  kinds  of  papers  of  ancient 
date,  but  nothing  modern — letter  from  the  Star  dated 
five  years  back,  recommendations  to  everybody  on 
earth,  except  Captain  Arnold,  certificate  of  bravery  in 
Apache  campaign,  bank  identifications,  and  all  the 


54  THE    MYSTERY 

rest.  '  Maybe  you're  the  Star's  correspondent,  and 
maybe  you're  not,'  said  the  Captain,  '  I  don't  see  any 
thing  here  to  prove  it.'  Slade  argued  an  hour;  no  go. 
Remember  how  you  caught  him  ? "  he  inquired  of 
Slade. 

The  reporter  grinned  assent. 

"  After  the  old  man  had  turned  him  down  for  good, 
Slade  fished  down  in  his  warbag  and  hauled  out  an 
old  tattered  document  from  an  oilskin  case.  *  Hold  on 
a  minute,'  said  he,  '  you  old  shellback.  I've  proved  to 
you  that  I  can  write;  and  I've  proved  to  you  that  I 
have  fought,  and  now  here  I'll  prove  to  you  that  I 
can  sail.  If  writing,  fighting,  and  sailing  don't  fit  me 
adequately  to  report  any  little  disturbances  your 
antiquated  washboiler  may  blunder  into,  I'll  go  to  rais 
ing  cabbages.'  With  that  he  presented  a  master's  cer 
tificate  !  Where  did  you  get  it,  anyway  ?  I  never  found 
out." 

"  Passed  as  '  fresh-water '  on  the  Great  Lakes,"  re 
plied  Slade  briefly. 

"  Well,  the  spunk  and  the  certificate  finished  the 
captain.  He  was  an  old  square  rigger  himself  in  the 
Civil  War." 

"  So  much  for  myself,"  Slade  continued.  "  As  for 
the  Laughing  Lass " 


PART    TWO 
THE    BRASS    BOUND    CHEST 

Being  the  story  told  by  Ralph  Slade,  Free  Lance,  to 
the  officers  of  the  United  States  cruiser  Wol 
verine. 


I 

THE   BARBARY   COAST 

A  COINCIDENCE  got  me  aboard  her.  I'll  tell  you  how 
it  was.  One  evening  late  I  was  just  coming  out  of 
a  dark  alley  on  the  Barbary  Coast,  San  Francisco. 
You  know — the  water  front,  where  you  can  hear  more 
tongues  than  at  Port  Said,  see  stranger  sights,  and 
meet  adventure  with  the  joyous  certainty  of  mediaeval 
times.  I'd  been  down  there  hunting  up  a  man  reported, 
by  a  wharf-rat  of  my  acquaintance,  to  have  just  re 
turned  from  a  two  years'  whaling  voyage.  He'd  been 
"  shanghaied  "  aboard,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was 
worth  nearly  a  million  dollars.  Landed  in  the  city 
without  a  cent,  could  get  nobody  to  believe  him,  nor 
trust  him  to  the  extent  of  a  telegram  East.  Wharf- 
rat  laughed  at  his  yarn ;  but  I  believe  it  was  true.  Good 
copy  anyway 

Just  at  the  turn  of  the  alley  I  nearly  bumped  into 
two  men.  On  the  Barbary  Coast  you  don't  pass  men 
in  narrow  places  until  you  have  reconnoitered  a  little. 
I  pulled  up,  thanking  fortune  that  they  had  not  seen 
me.  The  first  words  were  uttered  in  a  voice  I  knew 
well. 

You've  all  heard  of  Dr.  Karl  Augustus  Scher- 
merhorn.  He  did  some  big  things,  and  had  in  mind 
still  bigger.  I'd  met  him  some  time  before  in  con 
nection  with  his  telepathy  and  wireless  waves  theory. 

57 


58  THE    MYSTERY 

It  was  picturesque  stuff  for  my  purpose,  but  wasn't  in 
it  with  what  the  old  fellow  had  really  done.  He 
showed  me — well,  that  doesn't  matter.  The  point  is, 
that  good,  staid,  self-centred,  or  rather  science- 
centred,  Dr.  Schermerhorn  was  standing  at  mid 
night  in  a  dark  alley  on  the  Barbary  Coast  in  San 
Francisco  talking  to  an  individual  whose  facial  outline 
at  least  was  not  ornamental. 

My  curiosity,  or  professional  instinct,  whichever 
you  please,  was  all  aroused.  I  flattened  myself  against 
the  wall. 

The  first  remark  I  lost.  The  reply  came  to  me  in  a 
shrill  falsetto.  So  grotesque  was  the  effect  of  this 
treble  from  a  bulk  so  squat  and  broad  and  hairy  as  the 
silhouette  before  me  that  I  almost  laughed  aloud. 

"  I  guess  you've  made  no  mistake  on  that.  I'm  her 
master,  and  her  owner  too." 

"  Well,  I  haf  been  told  you  might  rent  her,"  said 
the  Doctor. 

"Rent  her!"  mimicked  the  falsetto.  "Well,  that 
— hell,  yes,  I'll  rent  her!  "  he  laughed  again. 

"  Doch  recht."  The  Doctor  was  plainly  at  the  end 
of  his  practical  resources. 

After  waiting  a  moment  for  something  more  def 
inite,  the  falsetto  inquired  rather  drily: 

"How  long?  What  to?  What  for?  Who  are  you, 
anyway?  " 

"  I  am  Dr.  Schermerhorn,"  the  latter  answered. 

"  Seen  pieces  about  you  in  the  papers." 

"  How  many  men  haf  you  in  the  crew  ?  " 

"  Me  and  the  mate  and  the  cook  and  four  hands." 

"  And  you  could  go — soon  ?  " 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  59 

"  Soon  as  you  want — if  I  go." 

"  I  wish  to  leaf  to-morrow." 

"  If  I  can  get  the  crew  together,  I  might  make  it. 
But  say,  let's  not  hang  out  here  in  this  run  of  dark 
ness.  Come  over  to  the  grog  shop  yonder  where  we 
can  sit  down." 

To  my  relief,  for  my  curiosity  was  fully  aroused — 
Dr.  Schermerhorn's  movements  are  usually  productive 
— this  proposal  was  vetoed. 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  the  Doctor,  with  some  haste,  "  this 
iss  well!  Somebody  might  oferhear." 

The  huge  figure  stirred  into  an  attitude  of  close 
attention.  After  a  pause  the  falsetto  asked  delib 
erately  : 

"  Where  we  goin'  ?  " 

"  I  brefer  not  to  say." 

"H'm!  How  long  a  cruise?" 

"  I  want  to  rent  your  schooner  and  your  crew  as- 
long-as  I-please-to  remain." 

"  H'm!  How  long's  that  likely  to  be?  " 

"  Maybe  a  few  months ;  maybe  seferal  years." 

"  H'm !  Unknown  port ;  unknown  cruise.  See 
here,  anything  crooked  in  this?" 

"  No,  no !  Not  at  all !  It  iss  simply  business  of  my 


own." 


"  Not  that  I  care,"  commented  the  other  easily, 
"  only  risks  is  worth  paying  for." 

"  There  shall  not  be  risk." 

"  Pearls  likely  ?  "  hazarded  the  other,  without  much 
heed  to  the  assurance.  "  Them  Jap  gunboats  is  getting 
pretty  hard  to  dodge  of  late  years.  However,  I've 
dodged  'em  before." 


60  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Now  as  to  pay — how  mooch  iss  your  boat 
worth  ?" 

I  could  almost  follow  the  man's  thoughts  as  he 
pondered  how  much  he  dared  ask. 

"  Well,  you  see,  for  a  proposition  like  that — don't 
know  where  we're  going,  when  we're  going  to  get 
back, — and  them  gunboats — how  would  a  hundred 
.and  twenty-five  a  month  strike  you  ?  " 

"  Double  it  up.  I  want  you  to  do  ass  I  say,  and  I 
will  also  give  your  crew  double  wages.  Bud  I  want 
goot  men,  who  will  stay,  and  who  will  keep  the  mouth 
shut." 

"  Gosh  all  fish-hooks !  They'd  go  to  hell  with  you 
for  that!" 

"  Now  you  can  get  all  you  want  of  Adams  &  Marsh. 
Tell  them  it  iss  for  me.  Brovisions  for  three  years, 
anyhow.  Be  ready  to  sail  to-morrow." 

"  Tide  turns  at  eight  in  the  evening." 

"  I  will  send  some  effects  in  the  morning." 

The  master  hesitated. 

"  That's  all  right,  Doctor,  but  how  do  I  know 
it's  all  right?  Maybe  by  morning  you'll  change  your 
mind." 

"  That  cannot  be.  My  plans  are  all " 

"  It's  the  usual  thing  to  pay  something " 

"Ach,  but  yes.  I  haf  forgot.  Darrow  told  me.  I 
will  make  you  a  check.  Let  us  go  to  the  table  of  which 
you  spoke." 

They  moved  away,  still  talking.  I  did  not  dare 
follow  them  into  the  light,  for  I  feared  that  the 
Doctor  would  recognise  me.  I'd  have  given  my  eye 
teeth,  though,  to  have  gathered  the  name  of  the 


Where  we  goin'  ?  "      "I  brefer  not  to  say 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  6r 

schooner,  or  that  of  her  master.  As  it  was,  I  hung" 
around  until  the  two  had  emerged  from  the  corner 
saloon.  They  paused  outside,  still  talking  earnestly. 
I  ventured  a  hasty  interview  with  the  bar-keeper. 

"  Did  you  notice  the  two  men  who  were  sitting  at 
the  middle  table  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Sure !  "  said  he,  shoving  me  my  glass  of  beer. 

"  Know  them  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Never  laid  eyes  on  'em  before.  Old  chap  looked 
like  a  sort  of  corn  doctor  or  corner  spell-binder.  Other 
was  probably  one  of  these  longshore  abalone  men." 

"Thanks,"  I  muttered,  and  dodged  out  again,  leav 
ing  the  beer  untouched. 

I  cursed  myself  for  a  blunderer.  When  I  got  to 
the  street  the  two  men  had  disappeared.  I  should 
have  shadowed  the  captain  to  his  vessel. 

The  affair  interested  me  greatly.  Apparently  Dr. 
Schermerhorn  was  about  to  go  on  a  long  voy 
age.  I  prided  myself  on  being  fairly  up  to  date  in  re 
gard  to  the  plans  of  those  who  interested  the  public; 
and  the  public  at  that  time  was  vastly  interested  in 
Dr.  Schemerhorn.  I,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
world,  had  imagined  him  anchored  safely  in  Phila 
delphia,  immersed  in  chemical  research.  Here  he 
bobbed  up  at  the  other  end  of  the  continent,  making 
shady  bargains  with  obscure  shipping  captains,  and 
paying  a  big  premium  for  absolute  secrecy.  It  looked 
good. 

Accordingly  I  was  out  early  the  next  morning.  I 
had  not  much  to  go  by;  schooners  are  as  plenty  as 
tadpoles  in  San  Francisco  harbour.  However,  I  was 
sure  I  could  easily  recognise  that  falsetto  voice;  and 


62  THE    MYSTERY 

I  knew  where  the  supplies  were  to  be  purchased. 
Adams  &  Marsh  are  a  large  firm,  and  cautious.  I 
knew  better  than  to  make  direct  inquiries,  or  to  ap 
pear  in  the  salesroom.  But  by  hanging  around  the 
door  of  the  shipping  room  I  soon  had  track  of  the 
large  orders  to  be  sent  that  day.  In  this  manner  I 
had  no  great  difficulty  in  following  a  truck  to  Pier  10, 
nor  to  identify  a  consignment  to  Captain  Ezra  Selover 
as  probably  that  of  which  I  was  in  search. 

The  mate  was  in  charge  of  the  stowage,  so  I  could 
not  be  quite  sure.  Here,  however,  was  a  schooner — of 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  tons  burden.  I  looked  her 
over. 

You're  all  acquainted  with  the  Laughing  Lass  and 
the  perfection  of  her  lines.  You  have  not  known  her 
under  Captain  Ezra  Selover.  She  was  the  cleanest 
ship  I  ever  saw.  Don't  know  how  he  accomplished  it, 
with  a  crew  of  four  and  the  cook ;  but  he  did.  The  deck 
looked  as  though  it  had  been  holystoned  every  morn 
ing  by  a  crew  of  jackies ;  the  stays  were  whipped  and 
tarred,  the  mast  new-slushed,  and  every  foot  of  run 
ning  gear  coiled  down  shipshape  and  Bristol  fashion. 
There  was  a  good  deal  of  brass  about  her;  it  shone 
like  gold,  and  I  don't  believe  she  owned  an  inch  of 
paint  that  wasn't  either  fresh  or  new-scrubbed. 

I  gazed  for  some  time  at  this  marvel.  It's  unusual 
enough  anywhere,  but  aboard  a  California  hooker  it 
is  little  short  of  miraculous.  The  crew  had  all  turned 
up,  apparently,  and  a  swarm  of  stevedores  were  hus 
tling  every  sort  of  provisions,  supplies,  stock,  spars, 
lines  and  canvas  down  into  the  hold.  It  was  a  rush 
job.  and  that  mate  was  having  his  hands  full.  I  didn't 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  63 

wonder  at  his  language  nor  at  his  looks,  both  of  which 
were  somewhat  mussed  up.  Then  almost  at  my  elbow 
I  heard  that  shrill  falsetto  squeal,  and  turned  just  in 
time  to  see  the  captain  ascend  the  after  gangplank. 

He  was  probably  the  most  dishevelled  and  untidy 
man  I  ever  laid  my  eyes  on.  His  hair  and  beard  were 
not  only  long,  but  tangled  and  unkempt,  and  grew  so 
far  toward  each  other  as  barely  to  expose  a  strip  of 
dirty  brown  skin.  His  shoulders  were  bowed  and 
enormous.  His  arms  hung  like  a  gorilla's,  palms 
turned  slightly  outwards.  On  his  head  was  jammed  a 
linen  boating  hat  that  had  once  been  white;  gaping 
away  from  his  hairy  chest  was  a  faded  dingy  checked 
cotton  shirt  that  had  once  been  brown  and  white ;  his 
blue  trousers  were  spotted  and  splashed  with  dusty 
stains;  he  was  chewing  tobacco.  A  figure  more  in 
contrast  to  the  exquisitely  neat  vessel  it  would  be  hard 
to  imagine. 

The  captain  mounted  the  gangplank  with  a  stead 
iness  that  disproved  my  first  suspicion  of  his  having 
been  on  a  drunk.  He  glanced  aloft,  cast  a  speculative 
eye  on  the  stevedores  trooping  across  the  waist  of  the 
ship,  and  ascended  to  the  quarter-deck  where  the  mate 
stood  leaning  over  the  rail  and  uttering  directed 
curses  from  between  sweat-beaded  lips.  There  the  big 
man  roamed  aimlessly  on  what  seemed  to  be  a  tour  of 
casual  inspection.  Once  he  stopped  to  breathe  on  the 
brass  binnacle  and  to  rub  it  bright  with  the  dirtiest 
red  bandana  handkerchief  I  ever  want  to  see. 

His  actions  amused  me.  The  discrepancy  between 
his  personal  habits  and  his  particularity  in  the  matter 
of  his  surroundings  was  exceedingly  interesting.  I 


64  THE    MYSTERY 

have  often  noticed  that  such  discrepancies  seem  to  indi 
cate  exceptional  characters.  As  I  watched  him,  his 
whole  frame  stiffened.  The  long  gorilla  arms  con 
tracted,  the  hairy  head  sunk  forward  in  the  tenseness 
of  a  serpent  ready  to  strike.  He  uttered  a  shrill  fal 
setto  shriek  that  brought  to  a  standstill  every  stevedore 
on  the  job,  and  sprang  forward  to  seize  his  mate  by 
the  shoulder. 

Evidently  the  grasp  hurt.  I  can  believe  it  might, 
from  those  huge  hands.  The  man  wrenched  himself 
about  with  an  oath  of  inquiry  and  pain.  I  could  hear 
one  side  of  what  followed.  The  captain's  high- 
pitched  tones  carried  clearly;  but  the  grumble  and 
growl  of  the  mate  were  indistinguishable  at  that 
distance. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  side  of  the  ship,  you  hound  of 
hell  ?  "  shrieked  the  captain. 

Mumble — surprised — for  an  answer. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you,  you  swab!  It's  just  two  fathom 
from  where  you  stand.  Just  two  fathom!  How  long 
would  it  take  you  to  walk  there?  How  long?  Just 

about  six  seconds!  There  and  back!  You "  I 

won't  bother  with  all  the  epithets,  although  by  now  I 
know  Captain  Selover's  vocabulary  fairly  well. 
"  And  you  couldn't  take  six  seconds  off  to  spit  over 
the  side!  Couldn't  walk  two  fathom!  Had  to  spit  on 
my  quarter-deck,  did  you !  " 

Rumble  from  the  mate. 

"  No,  by  God,  you  won't  call  up  any  of  the  crew. 
You'll  get  a  swab  and  do  it  yourself.  You'll  get  a 
hand  swab  and  get  down  on  your  knees,  damn  you! 
I'll  teach  you  to  be  lazy !  " 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  65 

The  mate  said  something  again. 

"  It  don't  matter  if  we  ain't  under  way.  That  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  quarter-deck  is  clean,  if  the 
waist  ain't,  and  nobody  but  a  damn  misbegotten  son- 
of-a-sea-lawyer  would  spit  on  deck  anyhow !  "  From 
this  Captain  Selover  went  on  into  a  good  old-fash 
ioned  deep-sea  "  cussing  out,"  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
stevedores. 

The  mate  stood  it  pretty  well,  but  there  comes  a  time 
when  further  talk  is  useless  even  in  regard  to  a  most 
heinous  offense.  And,  of  course,  as  you  know,  the 
mate  could  hardly  consider  himself  very  seriously  at 
fault.  Why,  the  ship  was  not  yet  at  sea,  and  in  all 
the  clutter  of  charging.  He  began  to  answer  back. 
In  a  moment  it  was  a  quarrel.  Abruptly  it  was  a  fight. 
The  mate  marked  Selover  beneath  the  left  eye.  The 
captain  with  beautiful  simplicity  crushed  his  antagonist 
in  his  gorilla-like  squeeze,  carried  him  to  the  side  of  the 
vessel,  and  dropped  him  limp  and  beaten  to  the  pier. 
And  the  mate  was  a  good  stout  specimen  of  a  sea-farer, 
too. 

Then  the  captain  rushed  below,  emerging  after 
an  instant  with  a  chest  which  he  flung  after  his  subor 
dinate.  It  was  followed  a  moment  later  by  a  stream 
of  small  stuff, — mingled  with  language — projected 
through  an  open  port-hole.  This  in  turn  ceased.  The 
captain  reappeared  with  a  pail  and  brush,  scrubbed 
feverishly  at  the  offending  spot,  mopped  it  dry  with 
that  same  old  red  bandana  handkerchief,  glared  about 
him, — and  abruptly  became  as  serene  and  placid  as  a 
noon  calm.  He  took  up  the  direction  of  the  stevedores. 
It  was  all  most  astounding. 


66  THE    MYSTERY 

Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  the  mate.  He  looked 
toward  the  ship  once  or  twice,  thought  better  of  it, 
and  began  to  pick  up  his  effects,  muttering  savagely. 
In  a  moment  or  so  he  threw  his  chest  aboard  an  out 
going  truck  and  departed. 

It  was  now  nearly  noon  and  I  was  just  in  the  way 
of  going  for  something  to  eat,  when  I  caught  sight 
of  another  dray  laden  with  boxes  and  crated  affairs 
which  I  recognised  as  scientific  apparatus.  It  was  fol 
lowed  in  quick  succession  by  three  others.  Ignorant  as 
I  was  of  the  requirements  of  a  scientist,  my  common 
sense  told  me  this  could  be  no  exploring  outfit.  I  re 
vised  my  first  intention  of  going  to  the  club,  and 
bought  a  sandwich  or  two  at  the  corner  coffee  house. 
I  don't  know  why,  but  even  then  the  affair  seemed  big 
with  mystery,  with  the  portent  of  tragedy.  Perhaps 
the  smell  of  tar  was  in  my  nostrils  and  the  sea  called. 
It  has  always  possessed  for  me  an  extraordinary  al 
lurement 

A  little  after  two  o'clock  a  cab  drove  to  the  after 
gangplank  and  stopped.  From  it  alighted  a  young 
man  of  whom  I  shall  later  have  occasion  to  tell  you 
more,  followed  by  Dr.  Schermerhorn.  The  young 
man  carried  only  a  light  leather  "  serviette,"  such  as 
students  use  abroad;  while  the  doctor  fairly  stag 
gered  under  the  weight  of  a  square,  brass-bound 
chest  without  handles.  The  singularity  of  this  unequal 
division  of  labour  struck  me  at  once. 

It  struck  also  one  of  the  dock  men,  who  ran  for 
ward,  eager  for  a  tip. 

"  Kin  I  carry  th'  box  for  you,  boss  ?  "  he  asked,  at 
the  same  time  reaching  for  it. 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  67 

The  doctor's  thin  figure  seemed  fairly  to  shrink 
at  the  idea. 

"  No,  no !  "  he  cried.  "  It  iss  not  for  you  to  carry !  " 

He  hastened  up  the  gangplank,  clutching  the  chest 
close.  At  the  top  Captain  Selover  met  him. 

"  Hello,  doctor,"  he  squeaked.  "  Here  in  good 
time.  We're  busy,  you  see.  Let  me  carry  your  chest 
for  you." 

"  No,  no !  "  Dr.  Schermerhorn  fairly  glared. 

"  It's  almighty  heavy,"  insisted  the  captain.  "  Let 
me  give  you  a  hand." 

"You  must  not  touch!"  emphatically  ordered  the 
scientist.  "  Where  iss  the  cabin  ?  " 

He  disappeared  down  the  companionway  clasping 
his  precious  load.  The  young  man  remained  on  deck 
to  superintend  the  stowing  of  the  scientific  goods  and 
the  personal  baggage. 

All  this  time  I  had  been  thinking  busily.  I  remem 
bered  distinctly  one  other  instance  when  Dr.  Scher 
merhorn  had  disappeared.  He  came  back  inscrutably, 
but  within  a  week  his  results  on  aerial  photography 
were  public  property.  I  told  myself  that  in  the  present 
instance  his  lavish  use  of  money,  the  elaborate  nature 
of  his  preparations,  the  evident  secrecy  of  the  expedi 
tion  as  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  he  had  negotiated 
for  the  vessel  only  the  day  before  setting  sail,  the 
importance  of  personal  supervision  as  proved  by  the 
fact  that  he — notoriously  impractical  in  practical  mat 
ters,  and  notoriously  disliking  anything  to  do  with 
business — had  conducted  the  affair  himself  instead  of 
delegating  it, — why,  gentlemen,  don't  you  see  that  all 
this  was  more  than  enough  to  wake  me  up,  body  and 


68  THE    MYSTERY 

soul?  Suddenly  I  came  to  a  definite  resolution.  Cap 
tain  Selover  had  descended  to  the  pier.  I  approached 
him. 

"  You  need  a  mate,"  said  I. 

He  looked  me  over. 

"Perhaps,"  he  admitted.  "Where's  your  man?" 

"  Right  here,"  said  I. 

His  eyes  widened  a  little.  Otherwise  he  showed  no 
sign  of  surprise.  I  cursed  my  clothes. 

Fortunately  I  had  my  master's  certificate  with  me — 
I'd  passed  fresh-water  on  the  Great  Lakes — I  always 
carry  that  sort  of  document  on  the  chance  that  it  may 
come  handy.  It  chanced  to  have  a  couple  of  naval  en 
dorsements,  results  of  the  late  war. 

"  Look  here,"  I  said  before  I  gave  it  to  him.  "  You 
don't  believe  in  me.  My  clothes  are  too  good.  That's 
all  right.  They're  all  I  have  that  are  good.  I'm  broke. 
I  came  down  here  wondering  whether  I'd  better  throw 
myself  in  the  drink." 

"  You  look  like  a  dude,"  he  squeaked.  "  Where  did 
you  ever  ship  ?  " 

I  handed  him  my  certificate.  The  endorsements 
from  Admiral  Keays  and  Captain  Arnold  impressed 
him.  He  stared  at  me  again,  and  a  gleam  of  cunning 
crept  into  his  eyes. 

"  Nothing  crooked  about  this?  "  he  breathed  softly. 

I  had  the  key  to  this  side  of  his  character.  You 
remember  I  had  overheard  the  night  before  his  state 
ment  of  his  moral  scruples.  I  said  nothing,  but  looked 
knowing. 

"What  was  it?"  he  murmured.  "Plain  desertion, 
or  something  worse  ?  " 


THE    BARBARY    COAST  69 

I  remained  inscrutable. 

"  Well,"  he  conceded,  "  I  do  need  a  mate ;  and  a 
naval  man — even  if  he  is  wantin'  to  get  out  of 
sight " 

"  He  won't  spit  on  your  decks,  anyway,"  I  broke  in 
boldly. 

Captain  Selover's  hairy  face  bristled  about  the 
mouth.  This  I  subsequently  discovered  was  symptom 
of  a  grin. 

"  You  saw  that,  eh?  "  he  trebled. 

"Aren't  you  afraid  he'll  bring  down  the  police  and 
delay  your  sailing?  "  I  asked. 

He  grinned  again,  with  a  cunning  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

"  You  needn't  worry.  There  ain't  goin'  to  be  any 
police.  He  had  his  advance  money,  and  he  won't  risk 
it  by  tryin'  to  come  back." 

We  came  to  an  agreement.  I  professed  surprise  at 
the  wages.  The  captain  guardedly  explained  that  the 
expedition  was  secret. 

"What's  our  port?"  I  asked,  to  test  him. 

"  Our  papers  are  made  out  for  Honolulu,"  he  re 
plied. 

We  adjourned  to  sign  articles. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  I,  "  I  wish  you  wouldn't 
make  them  out  in  my  own  name.  '  Eagen '  will  do." 

"All  right,"  he  laughed,  "  I  sabe.  Eagen  it  is." 

"  I'll  be  aboard  at  six,"  said  I.  "  I've  got  to  make 
some  arrangements." 

"  Wish  you  could  help  with  the  lading,"  said 
he.  "  Still,  I  can  get  along.  Want  any  advance 
money  ?  " 


70  THE    MYSTERY 

"  No,"  I  replied ;  then  I  remembered  that  I  was  sup 
posed  to  be  broke.  "  Yes,"  I  amended. 

He  gave  me  ten  dollars. 

"  I  guess  you'll  show  up,"  he  said.  "  Wouldn't  do 
this  to  everybody.  But  a  naval  man — even  if  he  is 
dodgin'  Uncle  Sam " 

"  I'll  be  here,"  I  assured  him. 

At  that  time  I  wore  a  pointed  beard.  This  I  shaved. 
Also  I  was  accustomed  to  use  eye-glasses.  The  trouble 
was  merely  a  slight  astigmatism  which  bothered  me 
only  in  reading  or  close  inspection.  I  could  get  along 
perfectly  well  without  the  glasses,  so  I  discarded  them. 
I  had  my  hair  cut  rather  close.  When  I  had  put  on 
sea  boots,  blue  trousers  and  shirt,  a  pea  jacket  and  a 
cap  I  felt  quite  safe  from  the  recognition  of  a  man  like 
Dr.  Schermerhorn.  In  fact,  as  you  shall  see,  I  hardly 
spoke  to  him  during  all  the  voyage  out. 

Promptly  at  six,  then,  I  returned  with  a  sea  chest, 
bound  I  knew  not  whither,  to  be  gone  I  knew  not  for 
how  long,  and  pledged  to  act  as  second  officer  on  a 
little  hundred-and-fifty-ton  schooner. 


II 

THE   GRAVEN   IMAGE 

I  HAD  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  my  disguise, — 
if  such  it  could  be  called.  Captain  Selover  at  first  failed 
to  recognise  me.  Then  he  burst  into  his  shrill  cackle. 

"Didn't  know  you/'  he  trebled.  "But  you  look 
shipshape.  Come,  I'll  show  you  your  quarters." 

Immediately  I  discovered  what  I  had  suspected  be 
fore;  that  on  so  small  a  schooner  the  mate  took  rank 
with  the  men  rather  than  the  afterguard.  Cabin  ac 
commodations  were  of  course  very  limited.  My  own 
lurked  in  the  waist  of  the  ship — a  tiny  little  airless 
hole. 

"  Here's  where  Johnson  stayed,"  proffered  Selover. 
"  You  can  bunk  here,  or  you  can  go  in  the  foc'sle 
with  the  men.  They's  more  room  there.  We'll  get  un 
der  way  with  the  turn  of  the  tide." 

He  left  me.  I  examined  the  cabin.  It  was  just  a 
trifle  larger  than  its  single  berth,  and  the  berth  was  just 
a  trifle  larger  than  myself.  My  chest  would  have  to  be 
left  outside.  I  strongly  suspected  that  my  lungs  would 
have  to  be  left  outside  also ;  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  see  where  the  air  was  to  come  from.  With  a  men 
tal  reservation  in  favour  of  investigating  the  forecastle, 
I  went  on  deck. 

The  Laughing  Lass  was  one  of  the  prettiest  little 
schooners  I  ever  saw.  Were  it  not  for  the  lines  of  her 

71 


72  THE    MYSTERY 

bilges  and  the  internal  arrangement  of  her  hold,  it 
might  be  imagined  she  had  been  built  originally  as  a 
pleasure  yacht.  Even  the  rake  of  her  masts,  a  little 
forward  of  the  plumb,  bore  out  this  impression,  which 
a  comparatively  new  suit  of  canvas,  well  stopped 
down,  brass  stanchions  forward,  and  two  little  guns 
under  tarpaulins,  almost  confirmed.  One  thing  struck 
me  as  peculiar.  Her  complement  of  boats  was  ample 
enough.  She  had  two  surf  boats,  a  dingy,  and  a  dory 
slung  to  the  davits.  In  addition  another  dory, — the 
one  you  picked  me  up  in — was  lashed  to  the  top  of 
the  deck  house. 

"  They'd  mighty  near  have  a  boat  apiece,"  I 
thought,  and  went  forward. 

Just  outside  the  forecastle  hatch  I  paused.  Some 
one  below  was  singing  in  a  voice  singularly  rich  in 
quality.  The  words  and  the  quaintness  of  the  minor 
air  struck  me  immensely  and  have  clung  to  my  mem 
ory  like  a  burr  ever  since. 

"  '  Are  you  a  man-o'-war  or  a  privateer/  said  he. 

Blow  high,  blow  low,  what  care  we! 
'  Oh,  I  am  a  jolly  pirate,  and  I'm  sailing  for  my  fee/ 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e." 

I  stepped  to  the  companion.  The  voice  at  once 
ceased.  I  descended. 

A  glimmer  of  late  afternoon  struggled  through  the 
deadlights.  I  found  myself  in  a  really  commodious 
space, — extending  far  back  of  where  the  forward  bulk 
heads  are  usually  placed, — accommodating  rows  and 
row  of  bunks — eighteen  of  them,  in  fact.  The  un- 


THE    GRAVEN    IMAGE  73 

lighted  lamp  cast  its  shadow  on  wood  stained  black 
by  much  use,  but  polished  like  ebony  from  the  con 
tinued  friction  of  men's  garments.  I  wish  I  could  con 
vey  to  you  the  uncanny  effect,  this — of  dropping  from 
the  decks  of  a  miniature  craft  to  the  internal  arrange 
ments  of  a  square-rigged  ship.  It  was  as  though, 
entering  a  cottage  door,  you  were  to  discover  your 
self  on  the  floor  of  Madison  Square  Garden.  A  fresh 
sweet  breeze  of  evening  sucked  down  the  hatch.  I  im 
mediately  decided  on  the  forecastle.  Already  it  was 
being  borne  in  on  me  that  I  was  little  more  than  a 
glorified  bo's'n's  mate.  The  situation  suited  me,  how 
ever.  It  enabled  me  to  watch  the  course  of  events  more 
safely,  less  exposed  to  the  danger  of  recognition. 

I  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  foot  of  the  companion 
accustoming  my  eyes  to  the  gloom.  After  a  moment, 
with  a  shock  of  surprise,  I  made  out  a  shining  pair  of 
bead-points  gazing  at  me  unblinkingly  from  the 
shadow  under  the  bitts.  Slowly  the  man  defined  him 
self,  as  a  shape  takes  form  in  a  fog.  He  was  leaning 
forward  in  an  attitude  of  attention,  his  elbows  rest 
ing  on  his  knees,  his  forearms  depending  between 
them,  his  head  thrust  out.  I  could  detect  no  faintest 
movement  of  eyelash,  no  faintest  sound  of  breathing. 
The  stillness  was  portentous.  The  creature  was  ex 
actly  like  a  wax  figure,  one  of  the  sort  you  meet  in 
corridors  of  cheap  museums  and  for  a  moment  mis 
take  for  living  beings.  Almost  I  thought  to  make  out 
the  customary  grey  dust  lying  on  the  wax  of  his 
features. 

I  am  going  to  tell  you  more  of  this  man,  because,  as 
you  shall  see,  he  was  destined  to  have  much  to  do  with 


74  THE    MYSTERY 

my  life,  the  fate  of  Dr.  Karl  Augustus  Schermerhorn, 
and  the  doom  of  the  Laughing  Lass. 

He  wore  on  his  head  a  red  bandana  handkerchief. 
I  never  saw  him  with  other  covering.  From  beneath 
it  straggled  oily  and  tangled  locks  of  glossy  black.  His 
face  was  long,  narrow,  hook-nosed  and  sinister;  his 
eyes,  as  I  have  described  them,  a  steady  and  beady 
black.  I  could  at  first  glance  ascribe  great  activity,  but 
only  moderate  strength  to  his  slender,  wiry  figure.  In 
this  I  was  mistaken.  His  sheer  physical  power  was 
second  only  to  that  of  Captain  Selover.  One  of  his 
forearms  ended  in  a  steel  hook.  At  the  moment  I 
could  not  understand  this ;  could  not  see  how  a  man  so 
maimed  could  be  useful  aboard  a  ship.  Later  I  wished 
we  had  more  as  handy.  He  knew  a  jam  hitch  which 
he  caught  over  and  under  his  hook  quicker  than  most 
men  can  grasp  a  line  with  the  naked  hand.  It  would 
render  one  way,  but  held  fast  the  other.  He  told  me 
it  was  a  cinch-hook  hitch  employed  by  mule  packers 
in  the  mountains,  and  that  he  had  used  it  on  swamp- 
hooks  in  the  lumber  woods  of  Michigan.  I  shouldn't 
wonder.  He  was  a  Wandering  Jew. — His  name  was 
Anderson,  but  I  never  heard  him  called  that.  It  was 
always  "  Handy  Solomon  "  with  men  and  masters. 

We  stared  at  each  other,  I  fascinated  by  something, 
some  spell  of  the  ship,  which  I  have  never  been  able 
to  explain  to  myself — nor  even  describe.  It  was  a 
mystery,  a  portent,  a  premonition  such  as  overtakes  a 
man  sometimes  in  the  dark  passageways  of  life.  I 
cannot  tell  you  of  it,  nor  make  you  believe — let  it 
pass 

Then  by  a  slow  process  of  successive  perceptions  I 


Slowly  the  man  defined  himself  as  a  shape  takes  form  in  a  fog 


THE    GRAVEN    IMAGE  75 

became  aware  that  I  was  watched  by  other  eyes,  other 
wax  figures,  other  human  beings  with  unwavering 
gaze.  They  seemed  to  the  sense  of  mystic  apprehension 
that  for  the  moment  held  possession  of  me,  to  be  every 
where — in  the  bunks,  on  the  floor,  back  in  the  shad 
ows,  watching,  watching,  watching  from  the  advan 
tage  of  another  world. 

I  don't  know  why  I  tell  you  this ;  why  I  lay  so  much 
stress  on  the  first  weird  impression  I  got  of  the  fore 
castle.  It  means  something  to  me  now — in  view  of 
all  that  happened  subsequently.  Almost  can  I  look 
back  and  see,  in  that  moment  of  occultism,  a  warning, 
an  enlightenment But  the  point  is,  it  meant  some 
thing  to  me  then.  I  stood  there  fascinated,  unable  to 
move,  unable  to  speak. 

Then  the  grotesque  figure  in  the  corner  stirred. 

"  Well,  mates,"  said  the  man,  "  believe  or  not  be 
lieve,  it's  in  the  book,  and  it  stands  to  reason,  too.  We 
have  gold  mines  here  in  Californy  and  Nevada  and  all 
them  States ;  and  we  hear  of  gold  mines  in  Mexico  and 
Australia,  too,  but  did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  gold  mines 
in  Europe?  Tell  me  that!  And  where  did  the  gold 
come  from  then,  before  they  discovered  America? 
Tell  me  that!  Why  they  made  it,  just  as  the  man  that 
wrote  this-here  says,  and  you  can  kiss  the  Book  on 
that." 

"How  about  that  place,  Ophir,  I  read  about?" 
asked  a  voice  from  the  bunks. 

The  man  shot  a  keen  glance  thither  from  beneath 
his  brows. 

"  Know  last  year's  output  from  the  mines  of 
Ophir,  Thrackles  ?  "  he  inquired  in  silky  tones. 


76  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Why,  no,"  stammered  the  man  addressed  as 
Thrackles. 

"  Well  I  do,"  pursued  the  man  with  the  steel  hook, 
"  and  it's  just  the  whole  of  nothing,  and  you  can  kiss 
the  Book  on  that  too !  There  ain't  any  gold  output,  be 
cause  there  ain't  any  mines,  and  there  never  have  been. 
They  made  their  gold." 

He  tossed  aside  a  book  he  had  been  holding  in  his 
left  hand.  I  recognised  the  fat  little  paper  duodecimo 
with  amusement^  and  some  wonder.  The  only  other 
copy  I  had  ever  laid  my  eyes  on  is  in  the  Astor 
Library.  It  is  somewhat  of  a  rarity,  called  The  Secret 
of  Alchemy,  or  the  Grand  Doctrine  of  Transmutation 
Fully  Explained,  and  was  written  by  a  Dr.  Edward 
Duvall, — a  most  extraordinary  volume  to  have  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  seamen. 

I  stepped  forward,  greeting  and  being  greeted.  Be 
sides  the  man  I  have  mentioned  they  were  four.  The 
cook  was  a  bullet-headed  squat  negro  with  a  broken 
nose.  I  believe  he  had  a  name, — Robinson,  or  some 
thing  of  that  sort.  He  was  to  all  of  us,  simply  the 
Nigger.  Unlike  most  of  his  race,  he  was  gloomy  and 
taciturn. 

Of  the  other  two,  a  little  white-faced,  thin-chested 
youth  named  Pulz,  and  a  villainous-looking  Mexican 
called  Perdosa,  I  shall  have  more  to  say  later. 

My  arrival  broke  the  talk  on  alchemy.  It  resumed 
its  course  in  the  direction  of  our  voyage.  Each  dis 
covered  that  the  others  knew  nothing;  and  each  blun 
dered  against  the  astounding  fact  of  double  wages. 

"  All  I  know  is  the  pay's  good ;  and  that's  enough," 
concluded  Thrackles,  from  a  bunk. 


THE   GRAVEN    IMAGE  77 

"  The  pay's  too  good,"  growled  Handy  Solomon. 
"  This  ain't  no  job  to  go  look  at  the  'clipse  of  the  moon, 
or  the  devil's  a  preacher !  " 

"  Wat  you  maik  heem,  den?"  queried  Perdosa. 

"  It's  treasure,  of  course,"  said  Handy  Solomon 
shortly. 

"  He,  he,  he !  "  laughed  the  negro,  without  mirth. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Doctor?  "  demanded 
Thrackles. 

"  Treasure !  "  repeated  the  Nigger.  "  You  see  dat 
box  he  done  carry  so  cairful  ?  You  see  dat  ?  " 

A  pause  ensued.  Somebody  scratched  a  match  and 
lit  a  pipe. 

"No,  I  don't  see  that!"  broke  out  Thrackles 
finally,  with  some  impatience.  "  I  sabe  how  a  man  goes 
after  treasure  with  a  box;  but  why  should  he  take 
treasure  away  in  a  box?  What  do  you  think,  Bucko?  "" 
he  suddenly  appealed  to  me. 

I  looked  up  from  my  investigation  of  the  empty 
berths. 

"  I  don't  think  much  about  it,"  I  replied,  "  except 
that  by  the  look  of  the  stores  we're  due  for  more 
than  Honolulu;  and  from  the  look  of  the  light  we'd 
better  turn  to  on  deck." 

An  embarrassed  pause  fell. 

"Who  are  you,  anyway?"  bluntly  demanded  the 
man  with  the  steel  hook. 

"  My  name  is  Eagen,"  I  replied ;  "  I've  the  berth 
of  mate.  Which  of  these  bunks  are  empty  ?  " 

They  indicated  what  I  desired  with  just  a  trace  of 
sullenness.  I  understood  well  enough  their  resentment 
at  having  a  ship's  officer  quartered  on  them, — the 


78  THE    MYSTERY 

forec'stle  they  considered  as  their  only  liberty  when 
at  sea,  and  my  presence  as  a  curtailment  to  the  free 
dom  of  speech.  I  subsequently  did  my  best  to  over 
come  this  feeling,  but  never  quite  succeeded. 

At  my  command  the  Nigger  went  to  his  galley.  I 
ascended  to  the  deck.  Dusk  was  falling,  in  the  swift 
Californian  fashion.  Already  the  outlines  of  the  wharf 
houses  were  growing  indistinct,  and  the  lights  of  the 
city  were  beginning  to  twinkle.  Captain  Selover  came 
to  my  side  and  leaned  over  the  rail,  peering  critically 
at  the  black  water  against  the  piles. 

"She's  at  the  flood,"  he  squeaked.  "And  here 
comes  the  Lucy  Belle" 

The  tug  took  us  in  charge  and  puffed  with  us  down 
the  harbour  and  through  the  Golden  Gate.  We  had 
sweated  the  canvas  on  her,  even  to  the  flying  jib  and 
a  huge  club  topsail  she  sometimes  carried  at  the  main, 
for  the  afternoon  trades  had  lost  their  strength.  About 
midnight  we  drew  up  on  the  Farallones. 

The  schooner  handled  well.  Our  crew  was  divided 
into  three  watches — an  unusual  arrangement,  but 
comfortable.  Two  men  could  sail  her  handily  in  most 
sorts  of  weather.  Handy  Solomon  had  the  wheel. 
Otherwise  the  deck  was  empty.  The  man's  fantastic 
headgear,  the  fringe  of  his  curling  oily  locks,  the  hawk 
outline  of  his  face  momentarily  silhouetted  against 
the  phosphorescence  astern  as  he  glanced  to  windward, 
all  lent  him  an  appearance  of  another  day.  I  could 
almost  imagine  I  caught  the  gleam  of  silver-butted 
horse  pistols  and  cutlasses  at  his  waist. 

I  brooded  in  wonder  at  what  I  had  seen  and  how 
little  I  had  explained.  The  number  of  boats,  sufficient 


THE   GRAVEN    IMAGE  79 

for  a  craft  of  three  times  the  tonnage;  the  capacity  of 
the  forecastle  with  its  eighteen  bunks,  enough  for  a 
passenger  ship, — what  did  it  mean?  And  this  wild, 
unkempt,  villainous  crew  with  its  master  and  his  al 
most  ridiculous  contrast  of  neatness  and  filth; — did 
Dr.  Schermerhorn  realise  to  what  he  had  trusted 
himself  and  his  precious  expedition,  whatever  it  might 
be? 

The  lights  of  shore  had  sunk;  the  Laughing  Lass 
staggered  and  leaped  joyously  with  the  glory  of  the 
open  sea.  She  seemed  alone  on  the  bosom  of  the  ocean ; 
and  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  but  feel  that  I  was 
embarked  on  some  desperate  adventure.  The  notion 
was  utterly  illogical;  that  I  knew  well.  In  sober 
thought,  I,  a  reporter,  was  shadowing  a  respectable 
and  venerable  scientist,  who  in  turn  was  probably 
about  to  investigate  at  length  some  little-known  deep- 
sea  conditions  or  phenomena  of  an  unexplored  island. 
But  that  did  not  suffice  to  my  imagination.  The  ship, 
its  surroundings,  its  equipment,  its  crew — all  read 
fantastic.  So  much  the  better  story,  I  thought,  shrug 
ging  my  shoulders  at  last. 


Ill 

THE   TWELVE   REPEATING   RIFLES 

AFTER  my  watch  below  the  next  morning  I  met  Percy 
Darrow.  In  many  ways  he  is,  or  was,  the  most  ex 
traordinary  of  my  many  acquaintances.  During  that 
first  half  hour's  chat  with  him  I  changed  my  mind  at 
least  a  dozen  times.  One  moment  I  thought  him 
clever,  the  next  an  utter  ass ;  now  I  found  him  frank, 
open,  a  good  companion,  eager  to  please, — and  then 
a  droop  of  his  blond  eyelashes,  a  lazy,  impertinent 
drawl  of  his  voice,  a  hint  of  half-bored  condescension 
in  his  manner,  convinced  me  that  he  was  shy  and  af 
fected.  In  a  breath  I  appraised  him  as  intellectual,  a 
fool,  a  shallow  mind,  a  deep  schemer,  an  idler,  and  an 
enthusiast.  One  result  of  his  spasmodic  confidences 
was  to  throw  a  doubt  upon  their  accuracy.  This  might 
be  what  he  desired ;  or  with  equal  probability  it  might 
be  the  chance  reflection  of  a  childish  and  aimless  ami 
ability. 

He  was  tall  and  slender  and  pale,  languid  of  move 
ment,  languid  of  eye,  languid  of  speech.  His  eyes 
drooped,  half-closed  beneath  blond  brows;  a  long 
wiry  hand  lazily  twisted  a  rather  affected  blond  mous 
tache,  his  voice  drawled  his  speech  in  a  manner  either 
insufferably  condescending  and  impertinent,  or  inef 
fably  tired, — who  could  tell  which  ? 

I  found  him  leaning  against  the  taffrail,  his  languid 
graceful  figure  supported  by  his  elbows,  his  chin 

80 


THE    TWELVE    REPEATING   RIFLES     81 

propped  against  his  hand.  As  I  approached  the  bin 
nacle,  he  raised  his  eyes  and  motioned  me  to  him.  The 
insolence  of  it  was  so  superb  that  for  a  moment  I  was 
angry  enough  to  ignore  him.  Then  I  reflected  that  I 
was  here,  not  to  stand  on  my  personal  dignity,  but  to 
get  information.  I  joined  him. 

"  You  are  the  mate  ?  "  he  drawled. 

"  Since  I  am  on  the  quarter-deck,"  I  snapped  back 
at  him. 

He  eyed  me  thoughtfully,  while  he  rolled  with  one 
hand  a  corn-husk  Mexican  cigarette. 

"Do  you  know  where  you  are  going?"  he  in 
quired  at  length. 

"  Depends  on  the  moral  character  of  my  future 
actions,"  I  rejoined  tartly. 

He  allowed  a  smile  to  break  and  fade,  then  lighted 
his  cigarette. 

"  The  first  mate  seems  to  have  a  remarkable  com 
mand  of  language,"  said  he. 

I  did  not  reply. 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth  7  don't  know  where  we 
are  going,"  he  continued.  "  Thought  you  might  be 
able  to  inform  me.  Where  did  this  ship  and  its  pre 
cious  gang  of  cutthroats  come  from,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Meaning  me?  " 

"  Oh,  meaning  you  too,  for  all  I  know,"  he 
shrugged  wearily.  Suddenly  he  turned  to  me  and  laid 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder  with  one  of  those  sudden 
bursts  of  confidence  I  came  later  to  recognise  and  look 
for,  but  in  which  I  could  never  quite  believe — nor 
disbelieve. 

"  I  am  eaten  with  curiosity,"  he  stated  in  the  least 


82  THE    MYSTERY 

curious  voice  in  the  world.  "  I  suppose  you  know  who 
his  Nibs  is?" 

"  Dr.  Schermerhorn,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Well,  I've  been  with  him  ten  years.  I  am 
his  right-hand  man.  All  his  business  I  transact  down 
to  the  last  penny.  I  even  order  his  meals.  His  discov 
eries  have  taken  shape  in  my  hands.  Suddenly  he  gets 
a  freak.  He  will  go  on  a  voyage.  Where?  I  shall 
know  in  good  time.  For  how  long?  I  shall  know  in 
good  time.  For  what  purpose?  Same  answer.  What 
accommodations  shall  I  engage?  I  experience  the 
worst  shock  of  my  life ; — he  will  engage  them  himself. 
What  scientific  apparatus?  Shock  number  two; — he 
will  attend  to  that.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do?  What 
do  you  suppose  he  says  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know?  "  I  asked. 

"  You  should  know  in  the  course  of  intelligent  con 
versation  with  me,"  he  drawled.  "  Well,  he,  good  old 
staid  Schermie  with  the  vertebrated  thoughts  gets 
kittenish.  He  says  to  me,  '  Joost  imachin,  Percy,  you 
are  all-alone-on-a-desert-island  placed;  and  that  you 
will  sit  on  those  sands  and  wish  within  yourself  all 
you  would  buy  to  be  comfortable.  Go  out  and  buy  me 
those  things — in  abundance.'  Those  were  my  direc 
tions." 

He  puffed. 

"  What  does  he  pay  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Enough,"  I  replied. 

"  More  than  enough,  by  a  good  deal,  I'll  bet,"  he 
rejoined.  "  The  old  fool!  He  ought  to  have  left  it  to 
me.  What  is  this  craft?  Have  you  ever  sailed  on  her 
before?" 


THE    TWELVE    REPEATING    RIFLES     83 

"  No." 

"  Have  any  of  the  crew?  " 

I  replied  that  I  believed  all  of  them  were  Selover's 
men.  He  threw  the  cigarette  butt  into  the  sea  and 
turned  back. 

"  Well,  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  double  wages,"  he 
mocked. 

So  he  knew  that,  after  all !  How  much  more  of  his 
ignorance  was  pretended  I  had  no  means  of  guessing. 
His  eye  gleamed  sarcastically  as  he  sauntered  toward 
the  companion-way.  Handy  Solomon  was  at  the 
wheel,  steering  easily  with  one  foot  and  an  elbow. 
His  steel  hook  lay  fully  exposed,  glittering  in  the 
sunlight.  Darrow  glanced  at  it  curiously,  and  at  the 
man's  headgear. 

"  Well,  my  genial  pirate,"  he  drawled,  "  if  you  had 
a  line  to  fit  that  hook,  you'd  be  equipped  for  fishing." 
The  man's  teeth  bared  like  an  animal's,  but  Darrow 
went  on  easily  as  though  unconscious  of  giving  of 
fence.  "  If  I  were  you,  I'd  have  it  arranged  so  the 
hook  would  turn  backward  as  well  as  forward.  It 
would  be  handier  for  some  things, — fighting,  for  in 
stance." 

He  passed  on  down  the  companion.  Handy  Sol 
omon  glared  after  him,  then  down  at  his  hook.  He 
bent  his  arm  this  way  and  that,  drawing  the  hook 
toward  him  softly,  as  a  cat  does  her  claws.  His  eyes 
cleared  and  a  look  of  admiration  crept  into  them. 

"  By  God,  he's  right !  "  he  muttered,  and  after  a 
moment ;  "  I've  wore  that  ten  year  and  never  thought 
of  it.  The  little  son  of  a  gun!  " 

He  remained  staring  for  a  moment  at  the  hook. 


84  THE    MYSTERY 

Then  he  looked  up  and  caught  my  eye.  His  own 
turned  quizzical.  He  shifted  his  quid  and  began  to 
hum: 

"The  bos'n  laid  aloft,  aloft  laid  he, 

Blow  high,    blow  low!  What   care  we? 

'  There's  a  ship  upon  the  wind'ard,  a  wreck  upon  the 

lee/ 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e" 

We  had  entered  the  trades  and  were  making  good 
time.  I  was  content  to  stay  on  deck,  even  in  my  watch 
below.  The  wind  was  strong,  the  waves  dashing,  the 
sky  very  blue.  From  under  our  forefoot  the  flying 
fish  sped,  the  monsters  pursued  them.  A  tingle  of 
spray  was  in  the  air.  It  was  all  very  pleasant.  The 
red  handkerchief  around  Solomon's  head  made  a 
pretty  spot  of  colour  against  the  blue  of  the  sky  and 
the  darker  blue  of  the  sea.  Silhouetted  over  the  flaw 
less  white  of  the  deck  house  was  the  sullen,  polished 
profile  of  the  Nigger.  Beneath  me  the  ship  swerved 
and  leaped,  yielded  and  recovered.  I  breathed  deep, 
and  saw  cutlasses  in  harmless  shadows.  It  was  two 
years  ago.  I  was  young — then 

At  the  mess  hour  I  stood  in  doubt.  However,  I  was 
informed  by  the  captain's  falsetto  that  I  was  to  eat 
in  the  cabin.  As  the  only  other  officer,  I  ate  alone, 
after  the  others  had  finished,  helping  myself  from  the 
dishes  left  on  the  table.  It  was  a  handsome  cabin,  well 
kept,  with  white  woodwork  spotlessly  clean,  leather 
cushions — much  better  than  one  would  expect.  I 
afterwards  found  that  the  neatness  of  this  cabin  and 


THE    TWELVE    REPEATING    RIFLES     85 

of  the  three  staterooms  was  maintained  by  the  Nig 
ger — at  peril  of  his  neck.  A  rack  held  a  dozen  rifles, 
five  revolvers,  and, — at  last — my  cutlasses.  I  exam 
ined  the  lot  with  interest.  They  were  modern  weap 
ons, — the  new  high  power  30-40  box-magazine  rifle, 
shooting  government  ammunition, — and  had  been 
used.  The  revolvers  were  of  course  the  old  45  Colt's. 
This  was  an  extraordinary  armament  for  a  peaceable 
schooner  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  tons  burden. 

The  rest  of  the  cabin's  fittings  were  not  remarkable. 
By  the  configuration  of  the  ship  I  guessed  that  two 
of  the  staterooms  must  be  rather  large.  I  could  make 
out  voices  within. 

On  deck  I  talked  with  Captain  Selover. 

"  She's  a  snug  craft,"  I  approached  him. 

He  nodded. 

"  You  have  armed  her  well." 

He  muttered  something  of  pirates  and  the  China 
seas. 

I  laughed. 

"  You  have  arms  enough  to  give  your  crew  about 
two  magazine  rifles  apiece — unless  you  filled  all  your 
berths  forward ! " 

Captain  Selover  looked  me  direct  in  the  eye. 

"  Talk  straight,  Mr.  Eagen,"  said  he. 

"  What  is  this  ship,  and  where  is  she  bound  ?  "  I 
asked,  with  equal  simplicity. 

He  considered. 

"  As  for  the  ship,"  he  replied  at  length,  "  I  don't 
mind  saying.  You're  my  first  officer,  and  on  you  I 
depend  if  it  comes  to — well,  the  small  arms  below.  If 
the  ship's  a  little  under  the  shade,  why,  so  are  you. 


86  THE    MYSTERY 

She's  by  way  of  being  called  a  manner  of  hard  names 
by  some  people.  I  do  not  see  it  myself.  It  is  a  matter 
of  conscience.  If  you  would  ask  some  interested,  they 
would  call  her  a  smuggler,  a  thief,  a  wrecker,  and  all 
the  other  evil  titles  in  the  catalogue.  She  has  taken 
in  Chinks  by  way  of  Santa  Cruz  Island — if  that  is 
smuggling.  The  country  is  free,  and  a  Chink  is  a 
man.  Besides,  it  paid  ten  dollars  a  head  for  the  land 
ing.  She  has  carried  in  a  cargo  or  so  of  junk;  it  was 
lying  on  the  beach  where  a  fool  master  had  piled  it, 
and  I  took  what  I  found.  I  couldn't  keep  track  of  the 
underwriters'  intentions." 

"  But  the  room  forward ?"  I  broke  in. 

"  Well,  you  see,  last  season  we  were  pearl  fishing." 

"  But  you  needed  only  your  diver  and  your  crew," 
I  objected. 

"  There  was  the  matter  of  a  Japanese  gunboat  or 
so,"  he  explained. 

"Poaching!"  I  cried. 

"  So  some  call  it.  The  shells  are  there.  The  islands 
are  not  inhabited.  I  do  not  see  how  men  claim 
property  beyond  the  tide  water.  I  have  heard  it 
argued " 

"  Hold  on !  "  I  cried.  "  There  was  a  trouble  last  year 
in  the  Ishigaki  Jima  Islands  where  a  poacher  beat  off 
the  Oyama.  It  was  a  desperate  fight." 

Captain  Selover's  eye  lit  up. 

"  I've  commanded  a  black  brigantine,  name  of  The 
Petrel,"  he  admitted  simply.  "  She  was  a  brigantine 
aloft,  but  alow  she  had  much  the  same  lines  as  the 
Laughing  Lass."  He  whirled  on  his  heel  to  roll  to 
one  of  the  covered  yacht's  cannon.  "  Looks  like  a 


THE   TWELVE    REPEATING    RIFLES     87 

harmless  little  toy  to  burn  black  powder,  don't  she  ?  " 
he  remarked.  He  stripped  off  the  tarpaulin  and  the 
false  brass  muzzle  to  display  as  pretty  a  little  Maxim 
as  you  would  care  to  see.  "  Now  you  know  all  about 
it,"  he  said. 

"  Look  here,  Captain  Selover,"  I  demanded,  "  don't 
you  know  that  I  could  blow  your  whole  shooting- 
match  higher  than  Gilderoy's  kite.  How  do  you  know 
I  won't  do  it  when  I  get  back?  How  do  you  know  I 
won't  inform  the  doctor  at  once  what  kind  of  an  out 
fit  he  has  tied  to?" 

He  planted  far  apart  his  thick  legs  in  their  soiled 
blue  trousers,  pushed  back  his  greasy  linen  boating  hat 
and  stared  at  me  with  some  amusement. 

"  How  do  you  know  I  won't  blow  on  Lieutenant 
or  Ensign  Ralph  Slade,  U.  S.  N.,  when  I  get  back?  " 
he  demanded.  I  blessed  that  illusion,  anyway.  "  Be 
sides,  I  know  my  man.  You  won't  do  anything  of 
the  sort."  He  walked  to  the  rail  and  spat  carefully 
over  the  side. 

"  As  for  the  doctor,"  he  went  on,  "  lie  knows  all 
about  it.  He  told  me  all  about  myself,  and  everything 
I  had  ever  done  from  the  time  I'd  licked  Buck  Jones 
until  last  season's  little  diversion.  Then  he  told  me 
that  was  why  he  wanted  me  to  ship  for  this  cruise." 
The  captain  eyed  me  quizzically. 

I  threw  out  my  hands  in  a  comic  gesture  of  sur 
render. 

"  Well,  where  are  we  bound,  anyway?  " 

The  dirty,  unkempt,  dishevelled  figure  stiffened. 

"  Mr.  Eagen,"  its  falsetto  shrilled,  "  you  are  mate 
of  this  vessel.  Your  duty  is  to  see  that  my  orders  as 


88  THE    MYSTERY 

to  sailing  are  carried  out.  Beyond  that  you  do  not 
go.  As  to  navigation,  and  latitude  and  longitude  and 
where  the  hell  we  are,  that  is  outside  your  line  of  duty. 
As  to  where  we  are  bound,  you  are  getting  double 
wages  not  to  get  too  damn  curious.  Remember  to 
earn  your  wages,  Mr.  Eagen !  " 

He  turned  away  to  the  binnacle.  In  spite  of  his 
personal  filth,  in  spite  of  the  lawless,  almost  piratical, 
character  of  the  man,  in  that  moment  I  could  not  but 
admire  him.  If  Percy  Darrow  was  ignorant  of  the 
purposes  of  this  expedition,  how  much  more  so  Captain 
Selover.  Yet  he  accepted  his  trust  blindly,  and  as  far 
as  I  could  then  see,  intended  to  fulfil  it  faithfully.  I 
liked  him  none  the  worse  for  snubbing  me.  It  indi 
cated  a  streak  in  his  moral  nature  akin  to  and  quite  as 
curious  as  his  excessive  neatness  regarding  his  im 
mediate  surroundings. 


IV 

THE    STEEL    CLAW 

DURING  the  next  few  days  the  crew  discussed  our 
destination.  Discipline,  while  maintained  strictly,  was 
not  conventional.  During  the  dog  watches,  often, 
every  man  aboard  would  be  below,  for  at  that  period 
Captain  Selover  loved  to  take  the  wheel  in  person,  a 
thick  cigar  between  his  lips,  the  dingy  checked  shirt 
wide  open  to  expose  his  hairy  chest  to  the  breeze.  In 
the  twilight  of  the  forecastle  we  had  some  great  sea- 
lawyer's  talks— I  say  "  We,"  though  I  took  little  part 
in  them.  Generally  I  lay  across  my  bunk  smoking  my 
pipe  while  Handy  Solomon  held  forth,  his  speech 
punctuated  by  surly  speculations  from  the  Nigger, 
with  hesitating  deep-sea  wisdom  from  the  hairy 
Thrackles,  or  with  voluminous  bursts  of  fractured 
English  from  Perdosa.  Pulz  had  nothing  to  offer,  but 
watched  from  his  pale  green  eyes.  The  light  shifted 
and  wavered  from  one  to  the  other  as  the  ship  swayed : 
garments  swung;  the  empty  berths  yawned  cavernous. 
I  could  imagine  the  forecastle  filled  with  the  desperate 
men  who  had  beaten  off  the  Oyama.  The  story  is  told 
that  they  had  swept  the  gunboat's  decks  with  her  own 
rapid-fires,  turned  in. 

No  one  knew  where  we  were  going,  nor  why.  The 
doctor  puzzled  them,  and  the  quantity  of  his  belong 
ings. 

89 


90  THE    MYSTERY 

"  It  ain't  pearls,"  said  Handy  Solomon.  "  You  can 
kiss  the  Book  on  that,  for  we  ain't  a  diver  among  us. 
It  ain't  Chinks,  for  we  are  cruising  sou'-sou'-west. 
Likely  it's  trade, — trade  down  in  the  Islands." 

We  were  all  below.  The  captain  himself  had  the 
wheel.  Discipline,  while  strict,  was  not  conventional. 

"  Contrabandista,"  muttered  the  Mexican,  "  for  dat 
he  geev  us  double  pay." 

"  We  don't  get  her  for  nothing,"  agreed  Thrackles. 
"  Double  pay  and  duff  on  Wednesday  generally  means 
get  your  head  broke." 

"  No  trade,"  said  the  Nigger  gloomily. 

They  turned  to  him  with  one  accord. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  Pulz,  breaking  his  silence. 

"  No  trade,"  repeated  the  Nigger. 

"Ain't  you  got  a  reason,  Doctor?"  asked  Handy 
Solomon. 

"  No  trade,"  insisted  the  Nigger. 

An  uneasy  silence  fell.  I  could  not  but  observe  that 
the  others  held  the  Nigger's  statements  in  a  respect 
not  due  them  as  mere  opinions.  Subsequently  I  under 
stood  a  little  more  of  the  reputation  he  possessed.  He 
was  believed  to  see  things  hidden,  as  their  phrase  went. 

Nobody  said  anything  for  some  time;  nobody 
stirred,  except  that  Handy  Solomon,  his  steel  claw  re 
moved  from  its  socket,  whittled  and  tested,  screwed 
and  turned,  trying  to  fix  the  hook  so  that,  in  accordance 
with  the  advice  of  Percy  Darrow,  it  would  turn  either 
way. 

"  What  is  it,  then,  Doctor?  "  he  asked  softly  at  last. 

"  Gold,"   said  the   Nigger  shortly.    "  Gold — treas- 


THE    STEEL    CLAW  91 

"  That's  what  I  said  at  first !  "  cried  Handy  Sol 
omon  triumphantly.  It  was  extraordinary,  the  un 
questioning  and  entire  faith  with  which  they  accepted 
as  gospel  fact  the  negro's  dictum. 

There  followed  much  talk  of  the  nature  of  this 
treasure,  whether  it  was  to  be  sought  or  conveyed, 
bought,  stolen,  or  ravished  in  fair  fight.  No  further 
soothsaying  could  they  elicit  from  the  Nigger.  They 
followed  their  own  ideas,  which  led  them  nowhere. 
Someone  lit  the  forecastle  lamp.  They  settled  them 
selves.  Pulz  read  aloud. 

This  was  the  programme  every  day  during  the  dog 
watch.  Sometimes  the  watch  on  deck  was  absent,  leav 
ing  only  Handy  Solomon,  the  Nigger  and  Pulz,  but 
the  order  of  the  day  was  not  on  that  account  varied. 
They  talked,  they  lit  the  lamp,  they  read.  Always  the 
talk  was  of  the  treasure. 

As  to  the  reading,  it  was  of  the  sort  usual  to  seamen, 
cowboys,  lumbermen,  and  miners.  Thrackles  had  a 
number  of  volumes  of  very  cheap  love  stories.  Pulz 
had  brought  some  extraordinary  garish  detective 
stories.  The  others  contributed  sensational  literature 
with  paper  covers  adorned  lithographically.  By  the 
usual  incongruity  a  fragment  of  The  Marble  Faun  was 
included  in  the  collection.  The  Nigger  has  his  copy 
of  Duvall  on  Alchemy.  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea 
where  he  could  have  got  it. 

While  Pulz  read,  Handy  Solomon  worked  on  the 
alteration  of  his  claw.  He  could  never  get  it  to  hold, 
and  I  remember  as  an  undertone  to  Pulz's  reading,  the 
rumble  of  strange,  exasperated  oaths.  Whatever  the 
evening's  lecture,  it  always  ended  with  the  book  on 


92  THE    MYSTERY 

alchemy.  These  men  had  no  perspective  by  which  to 
judge  such  things.  They  accepted  its  speculations  and 
theories  at  their  face  value.  Extremely  laughable  were 
the  discussions  that  followed.  I  often  wished  the 
shade  of  old  Duvall  could  be  permitted  to  see  these, 
his  last  disciples,  spelling  out  dimly  his  teachings,  mis 
pronouncing  his  grave  utterances,  but  believing  ut 
terly. 

Dr.  Schermerhorn  appeared  on  deck  seldom.  When 
he  did,  often  his  ringers  held  a  pen  which  he 
had  forgotten  to  lay  aside.  I  imagined  him  preoccu 
pied  by  some  calculation  of  his  own,  but  the  forecastle, 
more  picturesquely,  saw  him  as  guarding  constantly 
the  heavy  casket  he  had  himself  carried  aboard.  He 
breathed  the  air,  walked  briskly,  turned  with  the 
German  military  precision  at  the  end  of  his  score  of 
strides,  and  re-entered  his  cabin  at  the  lapse  of  the 
half  hour.  After  he  had  gone,  remained  Percy  Dar- 
row  leaning  indolently  against  the  tafFrail,  his  grace 
ful  figure  swaying  with  the  ship's  motion,  smoking 
always  the  corn-husk  Mexican  cigarettes  which  he 
rolled  with  one  hand.  He  seemed  from  that  farthest 
point  aft  to  hold  in  review  the  appliances,  the  fabric, 
the  actions,  yes,  even  the  very  thoughts,  of  the  entire 
ship.  From  them  he  selected  that  on  which  he  should 
comment  or  with  which  he  should  play,  always  with 
a  sardonic,  half-serious,  quite  wearied  and  indifferent 
manner.  His  inner  knowledge,  viewed  by  the  light  of 
this  manner  or  mannerism,  was  sometimes  uncanny, 
though  perhaps  the  sources  of  his  information  were 
commonplace  enough,  after  all.  Certainly  he  always 
viewed  with  amusement  his  victim's  wonder. 


THE    STEEL    CLAW  93 

Thus  one  evening  at  the  close  of  our  day-watch  on 
deck,  he  approached  Handy  Solomon.  It  was  at  the 
end  of  ten  days,  on  no  one  of  which  had  the  seaman 
failed  to  tinker  away  at  his  steel  claw.  Darrow  bal 
anced  in  front  of  him  with  a  thin  smile. 

"  Too  bad  it  doesn't  work,  my  amiable  pirate,"  said 

he.  "  It  would  be  so  handy  for  fighting See 

here,"  he  suddenly  continued,  pulling  some  object 
from  his  pocket,  "  here's  a  pipe ;  present  to  me ;  I 
don't  smoke  'em.  Twist  her  halfway,  like  that,  she 
comes  out.  Twist  her  halfway,  like  this,  she  goes  in* 
That's  your  principle.  Give  her  back  to  me  when  you 
get  through." 

He  thrust  the  briar  pipe  into  the  man's  hand,  and 
turned  away  without  waiting  for  a  reply.  The  seaman 
looked  after  him  in  open  amazement.  That  evening 
he  worked  on  the  socket  of  the  steel  hook,  and  in  two 
days  he  had  the  job  finished.  Then  he  returned  the 
pipe  to  Darrow  with  some  growling  of  thanks. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  young  man,  smiling  full 
at  him.  "  Now  what  are  you  going  to  fight?  " 


V 

THE   PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE 

CAPTAIN  SELOVER  received  as  his  due  the  most  abso 
lute  and  implicit  obedience  imaginable.  When  he  con 
descended  to  give  an  order  in  his  own  person,  the  men 
fairly  jumped  to  execute  it.  The  matter  had  evidently 
been  threshed  out  long  ago.  They  did  not  love  him, 
not  they;  but  they  feared  him  with  a  mighty  fear, 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so,  vividly,  and  often, 
when  in  the  privacy  of  the  forecastle.  The  pre 
vailing  spirit  was  that  of  the  wild  beast,  cowed 
but  snarling  still.  Pulz  and  Thrackles  in  especial  had  a 
great  deal  to  say  of  what  they  were  or  were  not  going 
to  do,  but  I  noticed  that  their  resolution  always  be 
gan  to  run  out  of  them  when  first  foot  was  set  to  the 
companion  ladder. 

One  day  we  were  loafing  along,  everything  draw 
ing  well,  and  everybody  but  the  doctor  on  deck  to 
enjoy  the  sun.  I  was  in  the  crow's-nest  for  my  pleas 
ure.  Below  me  on  the  deck  Captain  Selover  roamed 
here  and  there,  as  was  his  custom,  his  eye  cocked  out 
like  a  housewife's  for  disorder.  He  found  it,  again 
in  the  evidence  of  expectoration,  and  as  Perdosa  hap 
pened  to  be  handiest,  fell  on  the  unfortunate  Mexican. 

Perdosa  protested  that  he  had  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it,  but  Captain  Selover,  enraged  as  always 
when  his  precious  deck  was  soiled,  would  not  listen. 
Finally  the  Mexican  grew  sulky  and  turned  away  as 

94 


The  spirit  of  the  wild  beast,  cowed  but  snarling  still" 


THE    PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE          95 

though  refusing  to  hear  more.  The  captain  thereupon 
felled  him  to  the  deck,  and  began  brutally  to  kick  him 
in  the  face  and  head. 

Perdosa  writhed  and  begged,  but  without  avail. 
The  other  members  of  the  crew  gathered  near.  After 
a  moment,  they  began  to  murmur.  Finally  Thrackles 
ventured,  most  respectfully,  to  intervene. 

"You'll  kill  him,  sir,"  he  interposed.  "He's  had 
enough." 

"  Had  enough,  has  he  ? "  screeched  the  captain. 
"  Well,  you  take  what's  left." 

He  marked  Thrackles  heavily  over  the  eye.  There 
was  a  breathless  pause;  and  then  Thrackles,  Pulz,  the 
Nigger,  and  Perdosa  attacked  at  once. 

They  caught  the  master  unawares,  and  bore  him  to 
the  deck.  I  dropped  at  once  to  the  ratlines,  and  com 
menced  my  descent.  Before  I  had  reached  the  deck, 
however,  Selover  was  afoot  again,  the  four  hanging 
to  him  like  dogs.  In  a  moment  more  he  had  shaken 
them  off;  and  before  I  could  intervene,  he  had  seized 
a  belaying  pin  in  either  hand,  and  was  hazing  them 
up  and  down  the  deck. 

"Mutiny,  would  you?"  he  shrilled.  "You  poor 
swabs!  Forgot  who  was  your  captain,  did  ye?  Well, 
it's  Captain  Ezra  Selover,  and  you  can  lay  to  that! 
It  would  need  about  eight  fathom  of  stuff  like  you 
to  tie  me  down." 

He  chased  them  forward,  and  he  chased  them  aft, 
and  every  time  the  pins  fell,  blood  followed.  Finally 
they  dived  like  rabbits  into  the  forecastle  hatch.  Cap 
tain  Selover  leaned  down  after  them. 

"  Now  tie  yourselves  up,"  he  advised,  "  and  then 


96  THE    MYSTERY 

come  on  deck  and  clean  up  after  yourselves ! "  He 
turned  to  me.  "  Mr.  Eagen,  turn  out  the  crew  to  clean 
decks." 

I  descended  to  the  forecastle,  followed  immediately 
by  Handy  Solomon.  The  latter  had  taken  no  part  in 
the  affair.  We  found  the  men  in  horrible  shape,  what 
with  the  bruises  and  cuts,  and  bleeding  freely. 

"  Now  you're  a  nice-looking  Sunday  school ! "  ob 
served  Handy  Soloman,  eyeing  them  sardonically. 
"  Tackel  Old  Scrubs,  will  ye?  Well,  some  needs  a  bale 
of  cotton  to  fall  on  'em  afore  they  learns  anything. 
Enjoyed  your  little  diversions,  mates?  And  w'at  do 
you  expect  to  gain?  I  asks  you  that,  now.  You  poor 
little  infants!  Ain't  you  never  tackled  him  afore? 
Don't  remember  a  little  brigatine,  name  of  the  Petrel! 
My  eye,  but  you  are  a  pack  of  damn  fools !  " 

To  this  he  received  no  reply.  The  men  sullenly  as 
sisted  each  other.  Then  they  went  immediately  on 
deck  and  to  work. 

After  this  taste  of  his  quality,  Captain  Selover  en 
joyed  a  quiet  ship.  We  made  good  time,  but  for  a 
long  while  nothing  happened.  Finally  the  monotony 
was  broken  by  an  incident. 

One  evening  before  the  night  winds  I  sat  in  the 
shadow  of  the  extra  dory  on  top  of  the  deck  house. 
The  moon  was  but  just  beyond  the  full,  so  I  suppose 
I  must  have  been  practically  invisible.  Certainly  the 
Nigger  did  not  know  of  my  presence,  for  he  came  and 
stood  within  three  feet  of  me  without  giving  any  sign. 
The  companion  was  open.  In  a  moment  some  door 
below  was  opened  also,  and  a  scrap  of  conversation 
came  up  to  us  very  clearly. 


THE    PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE          97 

"  You  haf  dem  finished  ? "  the  doctor's  voice  in 
quired.  "  So,  that  iss  well," — papers  rustled  for  a  few 
moments.  "  And  the  r-result — ah — exactly — it  iss  that 
exactly.  Percy,  mein  son,  that  maigs  the  experiment 
exact.  We  haf  the  process " 

"  I  don't  see,  sir,  quite,"  replied  the  voice  of  Percy 
Darrow,  with  a  tinge  of  excitement.  "  I  can  follow 
the  logic  of  the  experiment,  of  course — so  can  I  fol 
low  the  logic  of  a  trip  to  the  moon.  But  when  you 
come  to  apply  it — how  do  you  get  your  re-agent? 
There's  no  known  method " 

Dr.  Schermerhorn  broke  in :  "  Ach,  it  iss  that  I 
haf  perfected.  Pardon  me,  my  boy,  it  iss  the  first  I 
haf  worked  from  you  apart.  It  iss  for  a  surprise.  I 
haf  made  in  small  quantities  the  missing  ingredient. 
It  will  form  a  perfect  interruption  to  the  current.  Now 
we  go " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  almost  shouted  Darrow, 
"  that  you  have  succeeded  in  freeing  it  in  the 
metal?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  doctor  simply. 

I  could  hear  a  chair  overturned. 

"  Why,  with  that  you  can " 

"  I  can  do  efferything,"  broke  in  the  doctor.  "  The 
possibilities  are  enormous." 

"  And  you  can  really  produce  it  in  quantity  ?  " 

"  I  think  so ;  it  iss  for  us  to  discover." 

A  pause  ensued. 

"  Why ! "  came  the  voice  of  Percy  Darrow,  awe- 
stricken.  "  With  fifty  centigrammes  only  you  could — 
you  could  transmute  any  substance — why,  you  could 
make  anything  you  pleased  almost!  You  could  make 


98  THE    MYSTERY 

enough  diamonds  to  fill  that  chest!  It  is  the  philoso 
pher's  stone !  " 

"  Diamonds — yes — it  is  possible,"  interrupted  the 
doctor  impatiently,  "  if  it  was  worth  while.  But 
you  should  see  the  real  importance " 

The  ship  careened  to  a  chance  swell;  a  door 
slammed;  the  voices  were  cut  off.  I  looked  up.  The 
Nigger's  head  was  thrust  forward  fairly  into  the  glow 
from  the  companionway.  The  mask  of  his  sullenness 
had  fallen.  His  eyes  fairly  rolled  in  excitement,  his 
thick  lips  were  drawn  back  to  expose  his  teeth,  his 
powerful  figure  was  gathered  with  the  tensity  of  a 
bow.  When  the  door  slammed,  he  turned  silently  to 
glide  away.  At  that  instant  the  watch  was  changed, 
and  in  a  moment  I  found  myself  in  my  bunk. 

Ten  seconds  later  the  Nigger,  detained  by  Captain 
Selover  for  some  trifling  duty,  burst  into  the  fore 
castle.  He  was  possessed  by  the  wildest  excitement. 
This  in  itself  was  enough  to  gain  the  attention  of  the 
men,  but  his  first  words  were  startling. 

"I  found  de  treasure!"  he  almost  shouted.  "I 
know  where  he  kept !  " 

They  leaped  at  him — Handy  Solomon  and  Pulz — 
and  fairly  shook  out  of  him  what  he  thought  he  knew. 
He  babbled  in  the  forgotten  terms  of  alchemy,  dress 
ing  modern  facts  in  the  garments  of  mediaeval  thought 
until  they  were  scarcely  to  be  recognised. 

"  And  so  he  say  dat  he  fine  him,  de  Philosopher 
Stone,  and  he  keep  him  in  dat  heavy  box  we  see  him 
carry  aboard,  and  he  don'  have  to  make  gol'  with  it — • 
he  can  make  diamon's — diamonds — he  say  it  too  easy 
to  fill  dat  box  plum  full  of  diamon's." 


THE   PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE         99 

They  gesticulated  and  exclaimed  and  breathed  hard, 
full  of  the  marvel  of  such  a  thought.  Then  abruptly 
the  clamour  died  to  nothing.  I  felt  six  eyes  bent  on 
me,  six  unwinking  eyes  moving  restless  in  motionless 
figures,  suspicious,  deadly  as  cobras 

Up  to  now  my  standing  with  the  men  had  been  well 
enough.  Now  they  drew  frankly  apart.  One  of  the 
most  significant  indications  of  this  was  the  increased 
respect  they  paid  my  office.  It  was  as  though  by 
prompt  obedience,  instant  deference,  and  the  emphasis 
ing  of  ship's  etiquette  they  intended  to  draw  sharply 
the  line  between  themselves  and  me.  There  was  much 
whispering  apart,  many  private  talks  and  consultations 
in  which  I  had  no  part.  Ordinarily  they  talked  freely 
enough  before  me.  Even  the  reading  during  the  dog 
watch  was  intermitted — at  least  it  was  on  such  days 
as  I  happened  to  be  in  the  watch  below.  But  twice  I 
caught  the  Nigger  and  Handy  Solomon  consulting  to 
gether  over  the  volume  on  alchemy. 

I  was  in  two  minds  whether  to  report  the  whole 
matter  to  Captain  Selover.  The  only  thing  that  re 
strained  me  was  the  vagueness  of  the  intention,  and 
the  fact  that  the  afterguard  was  armed,  and  was  four 
to  the  crew's  five.  An  incident,  however,  decided  me. 
One  evening  I  was  awakened  by  a  sound  of  violent 
voices.  Captain  Selover  occasionally  juggled  the 
watches  for  variety's  sake,  and  I  now  had  Handy 
Solomon  and  Perdosa.  The  Nigger,  being  cook,  stood 
no  watch. 

"  You  drunken  Greaser  swab ! "  snarled  Handy 
Solomon.  "  You  misbegotten  son  of  a  Yaqui !  I'll 
learn  you  to  step  on  a  seaman's  foot,  and  you  can  kiss 


ioo  THE    MYSTERY 

the  Book  on  that!  I'll  cut  your  heart  out  and  feed  it 
to  the  sharks!  " 

"  Potha !  "  sneered  Perdosa.  "  You  cut  heem  you 
finger  wid  your  knife." 

They  wrangled.  At  first  I  thought  the  quarrel  genu 
ine,  but  after  a  moment  or  so  I  could  not  avoid  a 
sort  of  reminiscent  impression  of  the  cheap  melo 
drama.  It  seemed  incredible,  but  soon  I  could  not 
dodge  the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  made-up  quarrel 
designed  to  impress  me. 

Why  should  they  desire  to  do  so?  I  had  to  give  it 
up,  but  the  fact  itself  was  obvious  enough.  I  laughed 
to  see  them.  The  affair  did  not  come  to  blows,  but  it 
did  come  to  black  looks  on  meeting,  muttered  oaths, 
growls  of  emnity  every  time  they  happened  to  pass 
each  other  on  the  deck.  Perdosa  was  not  so  bad;  his 
Mexican  blood  inclined  him  to  the  histrionic,  and  his 
Mexican  cast  lent  itself  well  to  evil  looks.  But  Handy 
Solomon,  for  the  first  time  in  my  acquaintance  with 
him,  was  ridiculous. 

About  this  time  we  crossed  into  frequent  thunders. 
One  evening  just  at  dark  we  made  out  a  heavy  black 
squall.  Not  knowing  exactly  what  weight  lay  behind 
it,  I  called  up  all  hands.  We  ducked  the  staysail  and 
foresail,  lowered  the  peak  of  the  mainsail,  and  waited 
to  feel  of  it — a  rough  and  ready  seamanship  often 
used  in  these  little  California  wind-jammers.  I  was 
pretty  busy,  but  I  heard  distinctly  Handy  Solomon's 
voice  behind  me. 

"  I'll  kill  you  sure,  you  Greaser,  as  soon  as  my  hands 
are  free!" 

And  some  muttered  reply  from  the  Mexican. 


THE    PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE         101 

The  wind  hit  us  hard,  held  on  a  few  moments,  and 
moderated  to  a  stiff  puff.  There  followed  the  rain, 
so  of  course  I  knew  it  would  amount  to  nothing.  I 
was  just  stooping  to  throw  the  stops  off  the  staysail 
when  I  felt  myself  seized  from  behind,  and  forced 
rapidly  toward  the  side  of  the  ship. 

Of  course  I  struggled.  The  Japanese  have  a  little 
trick  to  fool  a  man  who  catches  you  around  the  waist 
from  behind.  It  is  part  of  the  jiu-jitsu  taught  the 
Samurai — quite  a  different  proposition  from  the  or 
dinary  "  policeman  jiu-jitsu."  I  picked  it  up  from  a 
friend  in  the  nobility.  It  came  in  very  handy  now, 
and  by  good  luck  a  roll  of  the  ship  helped  me.  In  a 
moment  I  stood  free,  and  Perdosa  was  picking  him 
self  out  of  the  scuppers. 

The  expression  of  astonishment  was  fairly  well 
done — I  will  say  that  for  him — but  I  was  prepared  for 
histrionics. 

"Serior!"  he  gasped.  "  Eet  is  you!  Sacrosanta 
Maria!  I  thought  you  was  dat  Solomon!  Pardon  me, 
senor!  Pardon!  Have  I  hurt  you?" 

He  approached  me  almost  wheedling.  I  could  have 
laughed  at  the  villain.  It  was  all  so  transparent.  He 
no  more  mistook  me  for  Handy  Solomon  than  he  felt 
any  real  enmity  for  that  person.  But  being  angry,  and 
perhaps  a  little  scared,  I  beat  him  to  his  quarters  with 
a  belaying  pin. 

On  thinking  the  matter  over,  however,  I  failed  to 
see  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  it.  I  could  understand  a 
desire  to  get  rid  of  me;  there  would  be  one  less  of  the 
afterguard,  and  then,  too,  I  knew  too  much  of  the 
men's  sentiments,  if  not  of  their  plans.  But  why  all 


102  THE    MYSTERY 

this  elaborate  farce  of  the  mock  quarrel  and  the  al 
leged  mistake?  Could  it  be  to  guard  against  possible 
failure  ?  I  could  hardly  think  it  worth  while.  My  only 
theory  was  that  they  had  wished  to  test  my  strength 
and  determination.  The  whole  affair,  even  on  that 
supposition,  was  childish  enough,  but  I  referred  the 
exaggerated  cunning  to  Handy  Solomon,  and  consid 
ered  it  quite  adequately  explained.  It  is  a  minor  point, 
but  subsequently  I  learned  that  this  surmise  was  cor 
rect.  I  was  to  be  saved  because  none  of  the  conspira 
tors  understood  navigation. 

The  next  morning  I  approached  Captain  Selover. 

"  Captain,"  said  I,  "  I  think  it  my  duty  to  report 
that  there  is  trouble  brewing  among  the  crew." 

'  There  always  is,"  he  replied,  unmoved. 

"  But  this  is  serious.  Dr.  Schermerhorn  came 
aboard  with  a  chest  which  the  men  think  holds  treasure. 
The  other  evening  Robinson  overheard  him  tell  his 
assistant  that  he  could  easily  fill  the  box  with  dia 
monds.  Of  course,  he  was  merely  illustrating  the  value 
of  some  scientific  experiment,  but  Robinson  thinks, 
and  has  made  the  others  think,  that  the  chest  contains 
something  to  make  diamonds  with.  I  am  sure  they 
intend  to  get  hold  of  it.  The  affair  is  coming  to  a 
head." 

Captain  Selover  listened  almost  indifferently. 

"  I  came  back  from  the  islands  last  year,"  he  piped, 
"  with  three  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  pearls. 
There  was  sixteen  in  the  crew,  and  every  man  of  them 
was  blood  hungry  for  them  pearls.  They  had  three  or 
four  shindies  and  killed  one  man  over  the  proper  way 
to  divide  the  loot  after  they  had  got  it.  They  didn't 


THE    PHILOSOPHER'S    STONE         103 

get  it.  Why  ? "  He  drew  his  powerful  figure  to  its 
height  and  spread  his  thick  arms  out  in  the  luxury  of 
stretching.  "  Why  ?  "  he  repeated,  exhaling  abruptly. 
"Because  their  captain  was  Ezra  Selover!  Well,  Mr. 
Eagen,"  he  went  on  crisply,  "  Captain  Ezra  Selover 
is  their  captain,  and  they  know  it!  They'll  talk  and 
palaver  and  git  into  dark  corners,  and  sharpen  their 
knives,  and  perhaps  fight  it  out  as  to  which  one's  going 
to  work  the  monkey-doodle  business  in  the  doctor's 
chest,  and  which  one's  going  to  tie  up  the  sacks  of 
them  diamonds,  but  they  won't  git  any  farther  as  long 
as  Captain  Ezra  is  on  deck." 

"  Yes,"  I  objected,  "  but  they  mean  business.  Last 
night  in  the  squall  one  of  them  tried  to  throw  me 
overboard." 

Captain  Selover  grinned. 

"What  did  you  do?"  he  asked. 

"  Hazed  him  to  his  quarters  with  a  belaying  pin."" 

"Well,  that's  all  settled  then,  isn't  it?  What  more 
do  you  want  ?  " 

stood  undecided. 

"  I  can  take  care  of  myself,"  he  went  on.  "  You 
ought  to  take  care  of  yourself.  Then  there's  nothing 
more  to  do." 

He  mused  a  moment. 

:<  You  have  a  gun,  of  course  ?  "  he  inquired.  "  I  for 
got  to  ask." 

"  No,"  said  I. 

He  whistled. 

"Well,  no  wonder  you  feel  sort  of  lost  and  hope 
less!  Here,  take  this,  it'll  make  a  man  of  you." 

He  gave  me  a  Colt's  45,  the  barrel  of  which  had 


104  THE    MYSTERY 

been  filed  down  to  about  two  inches  of  length.  It  was 
a  most  extraordinary  weapon,  but  effective  at  short 
range. 

"  Here's  a  few  loose  cartridges,"  said  he.  "  Now 
go  easy.  This  is  no  warship,  and  we  ain't  got  men  to 
experiment  on.  Lick  'em  with  your  fists  or  a  pin,  if 
you  can ;  and  if  you  do  shoot,  for  God's  sake  just  wing 
'em  a  little.  They're  awful  good  lads,  but  a  little 
restless." 

I  took  the  gun  and  felt  better.  With  it  I  could  easily 
handle  the  members  of  my  own  watch,  and  I  did  not 
doubt  that  with  the  assistance  of  Percy  Darrow  even 
a  surprise  would  hardly  overwhelm  us.  I  did  not  count 
on  Dr.  Schermerhorn.  He  was  quite  capable  of 
losing  himself  in  a  problem  of  trajectory  after  the  first 
shot. 


VI 

THE   ISLAND 

I  CAME  on  deck  one  morning  at  about  four  bells  to  find 
the  entire  ship's  company  afoot.  Even  the  doctor 
was  there.  Everybody  was  gazing  eagerly  at  a  nar 
row,  mountainous  island  lying  slate-coloured  across 
the  early  morning. 

We  were  as  yet  some  twenty  miles  distant  from  it, 
and  could  make  out  nothing  but  its  general  outline. 
The  latter  was  sharply  defined,  rising  and  falling  to 
a  highest  point  one  side  of  the  middle.  Over  the  is 
land,  and  raggedly  clasping  its  sides,  hung  a  cloud,  the 
only  one  visible  in  the  sky. 

I  joined  the  afterguard. 

"  You  see  ?  "  the  doctor  was  exclaiming.  "  It  iss 
as  I  haf  said.  The  island  iss  there.  Everything  iss  as 
it  should  be !  "  He  was  quite  excited. 

Percy  Darrow,  too,  was  shaken  out  of  his  ordinary 
calm. 

"  The  volcano  is  active,"  was  his  only  comment, 
but  it  explained  the  ragged  cloud. 

"You  say  there's  a  harbour?"  inquired  Captain 
Selover. 

"  It  should  be  on  the  west  end,"  said  Dr.  Scher- 
merhorn. 

Captain  Selover  drew  me  one  side.  He,  too  was  a 
little  aroused. 

105 


io6  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Now  wouldn't  that  get  you  ? "  he  squeaked. 
"  Doctor  runs  up  against  a  Norwegian  bum  who 
tells  him  about  a  volcanic  island,  and  gives  its  bear 
ings.  The  island  ain't  on  the  map  at  all.  Doctor 
believes  it,  and  makes  me  lay  my  course  for  those 
bearings.  And  here's  the  island!  So  the  bum's  story 
was  true!  I'd  like  to  know  what  the  rest  of  it  was! " 
His  eyes  were  shining. 

"  Do  we  anchor  or  stand  off  and  on?  "  I  asked. 

Captain  Selover  turned  to  grip  me  by  the  shoulder. 

"  I  have  orders  from  Darrow  to  get  to  a  good 
berth,  to  land,  to  build  shore  quarters,  and  to  snug 
down  for  a  stay  of  a  year  at  least !  " 

We  stared  at  each  other. 

"  Joyous  prospect,"  I  muttered.  "  Hope  there's 
something  to  do  there." 

The  morning  wore,  and  we  rapidly  approached  the 
island.  It  proved  to  be  utterly  precipitous.  The  high 
rounded  hills  sloped  easily  to  within  a  hundred  feet 
or  so  of  the  water  and  then  fell  away  abruptly.  Where 
the  earth  ended  was  a  fantastic  filigree  border,  like 
the  fancy  paper  with  which  our  mothers  used  to  line 
the  pantry  shelves.  Below,  the  white  surges  flung 
themselves  against  the  cliffs  with  a  wild  abandon. 
Thousands  of  sea  birds  wheeled  in  the  eddies  of  the 
wind,  thousands  of  ravens  perched  on  the  slopes.  With 
our  glasses  we  could  make  out  the  heads  of  seals  fish 
ing  outside  the  surf,  and  a  ragged  belt  of  kelp. 

When  within  a  mile  we  put  the  helm  up,  and  ran 
for  the  west  end.  A  bold  point  we  avoided  far  out, 
lest  there  should  be  outlying  ledges.  Then  we  came 
in  sight  of  a  broad  beach  and  pounding  surf. 


THE    ISLAND  107 

I  was  ordered  to  take  a  surf  boat  and  investigate  for 
a  landing  and  an  anchorage.  The  swell  was  running" 
high.  We  rowed  back  and  forth,  puzzled  as  to  how 
to  get  ashore  with  all  the  freight  it  would  be  necessary 
to  land.  The  ship  would  lie  well  enough,  for  the  only 
open  exposure  was  broken  by  a  long  reef  over  which 
we  could  make  out  the  seas  tumbling.  But  inshore  the 
great  waves  rolled  smoothly,  swiftly — then  suddenly 
fell  forward  as  over  a  ledge,  and  spread  with  a  roar 
across  the  yellow  sands.  The  fresh  winds  blew  the 
spume  back  to  us.  We  conversed  in  shouts. 

"  We  can  surf  the  boat,"  yelled  Thrackles,  "  but  we 
can't  land  a  load." 

That  was  my  opinion.  We  rowed  slowly  along, 
parallel  to  the  shore,  and  just  outside  the  line  of 
breakers. 

I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  tell  you  the  manner  in 
which  we  became  aware  of  the  cove.  It  was  as  nearly 
the  instantaneous  as  can  be  imagined.  One  minute  I 
looked  ahead  on  a  cliff  as  unbroken  as  the  side  of  a 
cabin;  the  very  next  I  peered  down  the  length  of  a 
cove  fifty  fathoms  long  by  about  ten  wide,  at  the  end 
of  which  was  a  gravel  beach.  I  cried  out  sharply  to 
the  men.  They  were  quite  as  much  astonished  as  I. 
We  backed  water,  watching  closely.  At  a  given  point 
the  cove  and  all  trace  of  its  entrance  disappeared.  We 
could  only  just  make  out  the  line  where  the  headlands 
dissolved  into  the  background  of  the  cliffs,  and  that 
merely  because  we  knew  of  its  existence.  The  blend 
ing  was  perfect. 

We  rowed  in.  The  water  was  still.  A  faint  ebb  and 
flow  whispered  against  the  tiny  gravel  beach  at  the 


io8  THE    MYSTERY 

end.  I  noted  a  practicable  way  from  it  to  the  top  of 
the  cliff,  and  from  the  cliff  down  again  to  the  sand 
beach.  Everything  was  perfect.  The  water  was  a 
beautiful  light  green,  like  semi-opaque  glass,  and  from 
the  indistinctness  of  its  depths  waved  and  beckoned, 
rose  and  disappeared  with  indescribable  grace  and  de 
liberation  long  feathery  sea  growths.  In  a  moment 
the  bottom  abruptly  shallowed.  The  motion  of  the 
boat  toward  the  beach  permitted  us  to  catch  a  hasty 
glimpse  of  little  fish  darting,  of  big  fish  turning,  of 
yellow  sand  and  some  vivid  colour.  Then  came  the 
grate  of  gravel  and  the  scraping  of  the  boat's  bottom 
on  the  beach. 

We  jumped  ashore  eagerly.  I  left  the  men,  very  re 
luctant,  and  ascended  a  natural  trail  to  a  high  sloping 
down  over  which  blew  the  great  Trades.  Grass  sprung 
knee-high.  A  low  hill  rose  at  the  back.  From  below 
the  fall  of  the  cliff  came  the  pounding  of  surf. 

I  walked  to  the  edge.  Various  ledges,  sloping 
toward  me,  ran  down  to  the  sea.  Against  one  of  them 
was  a  wreck,  not  so  very  old,  head  on,  her  afterworks 
gone.  I  recognised  the  name  Golden  Horn,  and  was 
vastly  astonished  to  find  her  here  against  this  unknown 
island.  Far  up  the  coast  I  could  see — with  the  surges 
dashing  up  like  the  explosion  of  shells,  and  the  cliffs, 
and  the  rampart  of  hills  grown  with  grass  and  cactus. 
A  bold  promontory  terminated  the  coast  view  to  the 
north,  and  behind  it  I  could  glimpse  a  more  fertile  and 
wooded  country.  The  sky  was  partly  overcast  by  the 
volcanic  murk.  It  fled  before  the  Trades,  and  the  red 
sun  alternately  blazed  and  clouded  through  it. 

As  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  seen  here,  I  turned 


THE    ISLAND  109 

above  the  hollow  of  our  cove,  skirted  the  base  of  the 
hill,  and  so  down  to  the  beach. 

It  occupied  a  wide  semicircle  where  the  hills  drew 
back.  The  flat  was  dry  and  grown  with  thick,  coarse 
grass.  A  stream  emerged  from  a  sort  of  canon  on 
its  landward  side.  I  tasted  it,  found  it  sulphurous,  and 
a  trifle  worse  than  lukewarm.  A  little  nearer  the  cliff, 
however,  was  a  clear,  cold  spring  from  the  rock,  and 
of  this  I  had  a  satisfying  drink.  When  I  arose  from 
my  knees,  I  made  out  an  animal  on  the  hill  crest  look 
ing  at  me,  but  before  I  could  distinguish  its  charac 
teristics  it  had  disappeared. 

I  returned  along  the  tide  sands.  The  surf  dashed 
and  roared,  lifting  seaweeds  of  a  blood  red,  so  that  in 
places  the  water  looked  pink.  Seals  innumerable 
watched  me  from  just  outside  the  breakers.  As  the 
waves  lifted  to  a  semi-transparence,  I  could  make  out 
others  playing,  darting  back  and  forth,  up  and  down 
like  disturbed  tadpoles,  clinging  to  the  wave  until  the 
very  instant  of  its  fall,  then  disappearing  as  though 
blotted  out.  The  salt  smell  of  seaweed  was  in  my 
nostrils :  I  found  the  place  pleasant 

With  these  few  and  scattered  impressions  we  re 
turned  to  the  ship.  It  had  been  warped  to  a  secure 
anchorage,  and  snugged  down.  Dr.  Schermerhorn 
and  Darrow  were  on  deck  waiting  to  go  ashore. 

I  made  my  report.  The  two  passengers  disappeared. 
They  carried  lunch  and  would  not  be  back  until  night 
fall.  We  had  orders  to  pitch  a  large  tent  at  a  suitable 
spot  and  to  lighten  ship  of  the  doctor's  personal 
and  scientific  effects.  By  the  time  this  was  accom 
plished,  the  two  had  returned. 


no  THE    MYSTERY 

"  It's  all  right,"  Darrow  volunteered  to  Captain 
Selover,  as  he  came  over  the  side.  "  We've  found 
what  we  want." 

Their  clothes  were  picked  by  brush  and  their  boots 
muddy.  Next  morning  Captain  Selover  detailed  me  to 
especial  work. 

"  You'll  take  two  of  the  men  and  go  ashore  under 
Darrow's  orders,"  said  he. 

Darrow  told  us  to  take  clothes  for  a  week,  an  axe 
apiece,  and  a  block  and  tackle.  We  made  up  our  ditty 
bags,  stepped  into  one  of  the  surf  boats,  and  were 
rowed  ashore.  There  Darrow  at  once  took  the  lead. 

Our  way  proceeded  across  the  grass  flat,  through 
the  opening  of  the  narrow  canon,  and  so  on  back  into 
the  interior  by  way  of  the  bed  through  which  flowed 
the  sulphur  stream.  The  country  was  badly  eroded. 
Most  of  the  time  we  marched  between  perpendicular 
clay  banks  about  forty  feet  high.  These  were  occa 
sionally  broken  by  smaller  tributary  arroyos  of  the 
same  sort.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  reach  the 
level  of  the  upper  country.  The  bed  of  the  main  arroyo 
was  flat,  and  grown  with  grasses  and  herbage  of  an 
extraordinary  vividness,  due,  I  supposed,  to  the  sul 
phur  water.  The  stream  itself  meandered  aimlessly 
through  the  broader  bed.  It  steadily  grew  warmer 
and  the  sulphur  smell  more  noticeable.  Above  us  we 
could  see  the  sky  and  the  sharp  clay  edge  of  the  arroyo. 
I  noticed  the  tracks  of  Darrow  and  Dr.  Schermerhorn 
made  the  day  before. 

After  a  mile  of  this,  the  bottom  ran  up  nearly  to  the 
level  of  the  sides,  and  we  stepped  out  on  the  floor  of 
a  little  valley  almost  surrounded  by  more  hills. 


THE   ISLAND  in 

It  was  an  extraordinary  place,  and  since  much  hap 
pened  there,  I  must  give  you  an  idea  of  it. 

It  was  round  and  nearly  encircled  by  naked  painted 
hills.  From  its  floor  came  steam  and  a  roaring  sound. 
The  steam  blew  here  and  there  among  the  pines  on  the 
floor;  rose  to  eddy  about  the  naked  painted  hills.  At 
one  end  we  saw  intermittently  a  broad  ascending 
canon — deep  red  and  blue-black — ending  in  the  cone 
of  a  smoking  volcano.  The  other  seemed  quite  closed 
by  the  sheer  hills;  in  fact  the  only  exit  was  the  route 
by  which  we  had  come. 

For  the  hills  were  utterly  precipitous.  I  suppose  a 
man  might  have  made  his  way  up  the  various  knobs, 
ledges,  and  inequalities,  but  it  would  have  required 
long  study  and  a  careful  head.  I,  myself,  later  worked 
my  way  a  short  distance,  merely  to  examine  the  tex 
ture  of  their  marvellous  colour. 

This  was  at  once  varied  and  of  great  body — not  at 
all  like  the  smooth,  glossed  colour  of  most  rock,  but 
soft  and  rich.  You've  seen  painters'  palettes — it  was 
just  like  that,  pasty  and  fat.  There  were  reds  of  all 
shades,  from  a  veritable  scarlet  to  a  red  umber ;  greens, 
from  sea-green  to  emerald;  several  kinds  of  blue,  and 
an  indeterminate  purple-muave.  The  whole  effect  was 
splendid  and  barbaric. 

!  We  stopped  and  gasped  as  it  hit  our  eyes.  Darrow 
alone  was  unmoved.  He  led  the  way  forward  and  in 
an  instant  had  disappeared  behind  the  veil  of  steam. 
Thrackles  and  Perdosa  hung  back  murmuring,  but  at 
a  sharp  word  from  me  gathered  their  courage  in  their 
two  hands  and  proceeded. 

We  found  that  the  first  veil  of  steam,  and  a  fearful 


ii2  THE    MYSTERY 

stench  of  gases,  proceeded  from  a  miniature  crater 
whose  edge  was  heavily  encrusted  with  a  white  salt. 
Beyond,  close  under  the  rise  of  the  hill,  was  another. 
Between  the  two  Percy  Darrow  had  stopped  and  was 
waiting. 

He  eyed  us  with  his  lazy,  half-quizzical  glance  as 
we  approached. 

"  Think  the  place  is  going  to  blow  up?  "  he  inquired, 
with  a  tinge  of  irony.  "  Well,  it  isn't."  He  turned  to 
me.  "  Here's  where  we  shall  stay  for  a  while.  You 
and  the  men  are  to  cut  a  number  of  these  pine  trees 
for  a  house.  Better  pick  out  the  little  ones,  about  three 
or  four  inches  through :  they're  easier  handled.  I'll  be 
back  by  noon." 

We  set  to  work  then  in  the  roaring,  steaming  val 
ley  with  the  vapour  swirling  about  us,  sometimes  con 
cealing  us,  sometimes  half  revealing  us  gigantic,  again 
in  the  utterness  of  exposure  showing  us  dwindled  pig 
mies  against  the  magnitudes  about  us.  The  labour  was 
not  difficult.  By  the  time  Darrow  returned  we  had 
a  pile  of  the  saplings  ready  for  his  next  direction. 

He  was  accompanied  by  the  Nigger,  very  much  ter 
rified,  very  much  burdened  with  food  and  cooking 
utensils.  The  assistant  was  lazily  relating  tales  of  voo 
doos,  a  glimmer  of  mischief  in  his  eyes. 


VII 
CAPTAIN   SELOVER   LOSES   HIS   NERVE 

I  LIVED  in  the  place  for  three  weeks.  We  were  afoot 
shortly  after  daybreak,  under  way  by  sun-up,  and  at 
work  before  the  heats  began.  Three  of  us  worked  on 
the  buildings,  and  the  rest  formed  a  pack  train  carry 
ing  all  sorts  of  things  from  the  shore  to  the  valley. 
The  men  grumbled  fiercely  at  this,  but  Captain  Selover 
drove  them  with  slight  regard  for  their  opinions  or 
feelings. 

"  You're  getting  double  pay,"  was  his  only  word, 
"earn  it!" 

They  certainly  earned  it  during  those  three  weeks. 
The  things  they  brought  up  were  astounding.  Be 
sides  a  lot  of  scientific  apparatus  and  chests  of  chemi 
cal  supplies,  everything  that  could  possibly  be  re 
quired,  had  been  provided  by  that  omniscient  young 
man.  After  we  had  built  a  long,  low  structure,  win 
dows  were  forthcoming,  shelves,  tables,  sinks,  faucets, 
forges,  burners,  all  cut  out,  fitted  and  ready  to  put 
together,  each  with  its  proper  screws,  nails,  clamps, 
or  pipes  ready  to  our  hands.  When  we  had  finished, 
we  had  constructed  as  complete  a  laboratory  on  a  small 
scale  as  you  could  find  on  a  college  campus,  even  to 
the  stone  pillar  down  to  bed-rock  for  delicate  micro 
scopic  experiments,  and  hot  and  cold  water  led  from 
the  springs.  And  we  were  utterly  unskilled.  It  was  all 
Percy  Darrow. 


ii4  THE    MYSTERY 

I  was  toward  the  last  engaged  in  screwing  on  a 
fixture  for  the  generation  of  acetelyne  gas. 

"  Darrow,"  said  I,  "  there's  one  thing  you've  over 
looked;  you  forgot  to  bring  a  cupola  and  a  gilt 
weather-cock  for  this  concern." 

After  the  laboratory  was  completed,  we  put  up 
sleeping  quarters  for  the  two  men,  with  wide  porches 
well  screened,  and  a  square,  heavy  storeroom.  By  the 
end  of  the  third  week  we  had  quite  finished. 

Dr.  Schermerhorn  had  turned  with  enthusiasm 
to  the  unpacking  of  his  chemical  apparatus.  Al 
most  immediately  at  the  close  of  the  freight-carrying, 
he  had  appeared,  lugging  his  precious  chest,  this  time 
suffering  the  assistance  of  Darrow,  and  had  camped 
on  the  spot.  We  could  not  induce  him  to  leave,  so  we 
put  up  a  tent  for  him.  Darrow  remained  with  him 
by  way  of  safety  against  the  men,  whose  measure,  I 
believe,  he  had  taken.  Now  that  all  the  work  was 
finished,  the  doctor  put  in  a  sudden  appearance. 

"  Percy,"  said  he,  "  now  we  will  have  the  defence 
built." 

He  dragged  us  with  him  to  the  narrow  part  of 
the  arroyo,  just  before  it  rose  to  the  level  of  the 
valley. 

"  Here  we  will  build  the  stockade-defence,"  he  an 
nounced. 

Darrow  and  I  stared  at  each  other  blankly. 

"  What  for,  sir?  "  inquired  the  assistant. 

"  I  haf  come  to  be  undisturbed,"  announced  the 
doctor,  with  owl-like,  Teutonic  gravity,  "  and  I  will 
not  be  disturbed." 

Darrow  nodded  to  me  and  drew  his  principal  aside. 


SELOVER  LOSES  HIS  NERVE   115 

They  conversed  earnestly  for  several  minutes.  Then 
the  assistant  returned  to  me. 

"  No  use,"  he  shrugged  in  complete  return  to  his 
indifferent  manner.  "  Stockade  it  is.  Better  make  it 
of  fourteen  foot  logs,  slanted  out.  Dig  a  trench  across, 
plant  your  logs  three  or  four  feet,  bind  them  at  the 
top.  That's  his  specification  for  it.  Go  at  it." 

"  But,"  I  expostulated,  "  what's  the  use  of  it?  Even 
if  the  men  were  dangerous,  that  would  just  make  them 
think  you  did  have  something  to  guard." 

"  I  know  that.  Orders,"  replied  Percy  Darrow. 

We  built  the  stockade  in  a  day.  When  it  was  fin 
ished  we  marched  to  the  beach,  and  never,  save  in  the 
three  instances  of  which  I  shall  later  tell  you,  did  I 
see  the  valley  again.  The  next  day  we  washed  our 
clothes,  and  moved  ashore  with  all  our  belongings. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  have  this  crew  aboard,"  stated 
Captain  Selover  positively,  "  I'm  going  to  clean  her." 
He  himself  stayed,  however. 

We  rowed  in,  constructed  a  hasty  fireplace  of  stones, 
spread  our  blankets,  and  built  an  unnecessary  fire  near 
the  beach. 

"  Clean  her!  "  grumbled  Thrackles,  "  my  eye!  " 

"  I'd  rather  round  the  Cape,"  growled  Pulz  hope 
lessly. 

"  Come,  now,  it  can't  be  as  bad  as  all  that,"  I  tried 
to  cheer  them.  "  It  can't  be  more  than  a  week  or  ten 
days'  job,  even  if  we  careen  her." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about,"  said 
Thrackles.  "  It's  worse  than  the  yellow  jack.  It's 
six  weeks  at  least.  Mind  when  we  last  *  cleaned 
her  '  ?  "  he  inquired  of  Handy  Solomon. 


n6  THE    MYSTERY 

"  You  can  kiss  the  Book  on  it,"  replied  he.  "  Down 
by  the  line  in  that  little  swab  of  a  sand  island.  My 
eye,  but  don't  I  remember !  I  sweated  my  liver  white." 

They  smoked  in  silence. 

"  That's  a  main  queer  contrivance  of  the  Perfessor's 
— that  stockade-like,"  ventured  Solomon,  after  a  little. 

"  He  doesn't  want  any  intrusion,"  I  said.  "  These 
scientific  experiments  are  very  delicate." 

"  Quite  like,"  he  commented  non-committally. 

We  slept  on  the  ground  that  night,  and  next  morn 
ing,  under  Captain  Selover's  directions,  we  com 
menced  the  task  of  lightening  the  ship.  He  detailed 
the  Nigger  and  Perdosa  for  special  duty. 

"  I'll  just  see  to  your  shore  quarters,"  he  squeaked. 
"  You  empty  her." 

All  day  long  we  rowed  back  and  forth  from  the 
ship  to  the  cove,  landing  the  contents  of  the  hold. 
These,  by  good  fortune,  we  did  not  have  to  carry  over 
the  neck  of  land,  for  just  above  the  gravel  beach  was 
a  wide  ledge  on  which  we  could  pile  the  stores.  We  ate 
aboard,  and  so  had  no  opportunity  of  seeing  what 
Captain  Selover  and  his  men  were  about,  until  evening. 
Then  we  discovered  that  they  had  collected  and  low 
ered  to  the  beach  a  quantity  of  stateroom  doors  from 
the  wreck,  and  had  trundled  the  galley  stove  to  the 
edge  where  it  awaited  our  assistance.  We  hitched  a 
cable  to  it,  and  let  it  down  gently.  The  Nigger  was 
immensely  pleased.  After  some  experiment  he  got  it 
to  draw,  and  so  cooked  us  our  supper  on  it.  After 
supper,  Captain  Selover  rowed  himself  back  to  the 
ship. 

"  Eagen,"  he  had  said,  drawing  me  aside,  "  I'm  go- 


SELOVER  LOSES  HIS  NERVE   117 

ing  to  leave  you  with  them.  It's  better  that  one  of 
us — I  think  as  owner  I  ought  to  be  aboard " 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  said  I,  "  it's  the  only  proper  place 
for  you." 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so,"  he  rejoined,  apparently 
relieved.  "  And  anyway,"  he  cried,  with  a  burst  of 
feeling,  "  I  hate  the  gritty  feeling  of  it  under  my  feet ! 
Solid  oak's  the  only  walking  for  a  man." 

He  left  me  hastily,  as  though  a  trifle  ashamed.  I 
thought  he  seemed  depressed,  even  a  little  furtive,  and 
yet  on  analysis  I  could  discover  nothing  definite  on 
which  to  base  such  a  conclusion. 

It  was  rather  a  feeling  of  difference  from  the  man 
I  had  known.  In  my  fatigue  it  seemed  hardly  worth 
thinking  about. 

The  men  had  rolled  themselves  in  their  blankets, 
tired  with  the  long  day. 

Next  morning  Captain  Selover  was  ashore  early. 
He  had  quite  recovered  his  spirits,  and  offered  me  a 
dram  of  French  brandy,  which  I  refused.  We  worked 
hard  again;  again  the  master  returned  at  night  to  his 
vessel,  this  time  without  a  word  to  any  of  us;  again 
the  men,  drugged  by  toil,  turned  in  early  and  slept 
like  the  dead. 

We  became  entangled  in  a  mesh  of  days  like  these, 
during  which  things  were  accomplished,  but  in  which 
was  no  space  for  anything  but  the  tasks  imposed 
upon  us.  The  men  for  the  most  part  had  little  to  say. 

"  Por  Dios,  eet  is  too  mooch  work !  "  sighed  Perdosa 
once. 

"Why  don't  you  kick  to  the  Old  Man,  then?" 
sneered  Thrackles. 


n8  THE    MYSTERY 

The  silence  that  followed,  and  the  sullenness  with 
which  Perdosa  readdressed  himself  to  his  work,  was 
significant  enough  of  Captain  Selover's  past  relations 
with  the  men. 

And  how  we  did  clean  her!  We  stripped  her  of 
every  stitch  and  sliver  until  she  floated  high,  an  empty 
hull,  even  her  spars  and  running  rigging  ashore.  I 
understood  now  the  crew's  grumbling.  We  literally 
went  at  her  with  a  nail  brush. 

Captain  Selover  took  charge  of  us  when  we  had 
reached  this  period.  He  and  the  Nigger  and  Perdosa 
had  long  since  finished  the  installation  of  the  perma 
nent  camp.  They  had  built  us  huts  from  the  wreck, 
collecting  stateroom  doors  for  the  sides,  and  hatches 
for  the  roofs,  huge  and  solid,  with  iron  rings  in  them. 
The  bronze  and  iron  ventilation  gratings  to  the  doors 
gave  us  glimpses  of  the  coast  through  fretwork;  the 
rich  inlaying  of  woods  surrounded  us.  We  set  up  on 
a  solid  rock  the  galley  stove — with  its  rails  to  hold 
the  cooking  pots  from  upsetting,  in  a  sea  way.  In  it 
we  burned  the  debris  of  the  wreck,  all  sorts  of  wood, 
some  sweet  and  aromatic  and  spicy  as  an  incensed 
cathedral.  I  have  seen  the  Nigger  boiling  beans 
over  a  blaze  of  sandal  wood  fragrant  as  an  Eastern 
shop. 

First  we  scrubbed  the  Laughing  Lass,  then  we 
painted  her,  and  resized  and  tarred  her  standing  rig 
ging,  resized  and  rove  her  running  gear,  slushed  her 
masts,  finally  careened  her  and  scraped  and  painted 
her  below. 

When  we  had  quite  finished,  we  had  the  anchor 
chain  dealt  out  to  us  in  fathoms,  and  scraped,  pounded 


SELOVER    LOSES    HIS    NERVE        119 

and  polished  that.  These  were  indeed  days  full  of 
labour. 

Being  busy  from  morning  until  night  we  knew  but 
little  of  what  was  about  us.  We  saw  the  open  sea  and 
the  waves  tumbling  over  the  reef  outside.  We  saw 
the  headlands,  and  the  bow  of  the  bay  and  the  surf 
with  its  watching  seals  and  the  curve  of  yellow  sands. 
We  saw  the  sweep  of  coast  and  the  downs  and  the 
strange  huts  we  had  built  out  of  departed  magnificence, 
And  that  was  all;  that  constituted  our  world. 

In  the  evening  sometimes  we  lit  a  big  bonfire,  sailor 
fashion,  just  at  the  edge  of  the  beach.  There  we  sat 
at  ease  and  smoked  our  pipes  in  silence,  too  tired  to 
talk.  Even  Handy  Solomon's  song  was  still.  Outside 
the  circle  of  light  were  mysterious  things — strange 
wavings  of  white  hands,  bendings  of  figures,  callings 
of  voices,  rustling  of  feet.  We  knew  them  for  the 
surf  and  the  wind  in  the  grasses:  but  they  were  not 
the  less  mysterious  for  that. 

Logically  Captain  Selover  and  I  should  have  passed 
most  of  our  evenings  together.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
we  so  spent  very  few.  Early  in  the  dusk  the  captain 
invariably  rowed  himself  out  to  his  beloved  schooner. 
What  he  did  there  I  do  not  know.  We  could  see  his 
light  now  in  one  part  of  her,  now  in  the  other.  The 
men  claimed  he  was  scrubbing  her  teeth.  "  Old 
Scrubs"  they  called  him  to  his  back:  never  Captain 
Selover. 

"  He  has  to  clean  up  after  his  own  feet,  he's  so 
dirty,"  sagely  proffered  Handy  Solomon.  And  this 
was  true. 

The  seaman's  prophecy  held  good.    Seven  weeks 


120  THE    MYSTERY 

held  us  at  that  infernal  job — seven  weeks  of  solid, 
grinding  work.  The  worst  of  it  was,  that  we  were 
kept  at  it  so  breathlessly,  as  though  our  very  exist 
ence  were  to  depend  on  the  headlong  rush  of  our 
labour.  And  then  we  had  fully  half  the  stores  to 
put  away  again,  and  the  other  half  to  transport  pain 
fully  over  the  neck  of  land  from  the  cove  to  the 
beach. 

So  accustomed  had  I  become  to  the  routine  in  which 
we  were  involved,  so  habituated  to  anticipating  the 
coming  day  as  exactly  like  the  day  that  had  gone,  that 
the  completion  of  our  job  caught  me  quite  by  surprise. 
I  had  thrown  myself  down  by  the  fire  prepared  for  the 
some  old  half  hour  of  drowsy  nicotine,  to  be  followed 
by  the  accustomed  heavy  sleep,  and  the  usual  early 
rising  to  toil.  The  evening  was  warm;  I  half  closed 
my  eyes. 

Handy  Solomon  was  coming  in  last.  Instead  of 
dropping  to  his  place,  he  straddled  the  fire,  stretching 
his  arms  over  his  head.  He  let  them  fall  with  a  sharp 
exhalation. 

" '  Lay  aloft,  lay  aloft/  the  jolly  bos'n  cried. 

Blow  high,  blow  low,  what  care  we! 
*  Look   ahead,    look  astern,    look   a-windward,    look 

a-lee.' 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e." 

The  effect  was  electrical.  We  all  sprang  to  our  feet 
and  fell  to  talking  at  once. 

"  By  God,  we're  through! "  cried  Pulz.  "  I'd  clean 
forgot  it!" 


SELOVER    LOSES    HIS    NERVE        121 

The  Nigger  piled  on  more  wood.  We  drew  closer 
about  the  fire.  All  the  interests  in  life,  so  long  held 
in  the  background,  leaped  forward,  eager  for  recog 
nition.  We  spoke  of  trivialities  almost  for  the  first 
time  since  our  landing,  fused  into  a  temporary  but 
complete  good  fellowship  by  the  relief. 

"Wonder  how  the  old  doctor  is  getting  on?" 
ventured  Thrackles,  after  a  while. 

"  The  devil's  a  preacher!  I  wonder?  "  cried  Handy 
Solomon. 

"  Let's  make  'em  a  call,"  suggested  Pulz. 

"  Don't  believe  they'd  appreciate  the  compliment," 
I  laughed.  "  Better  let  them  make  first  call :  they're 
the  longer  established."  This  was  lost  on  them,  of 
course.  But  we  all  felt  kindly  to  one  another  that 
evening. 

I  carried  the  glow  of  it  with  me  over  until  next 
morning,  and  was  therefore  somewhat  dashed  to  meet 
Captain  Selover,  with  clouded  brows  and  an  uncertain 
manner.  He  quite  ignored  my  greeting. 

"  By  God,  Eagen,"  he  squeaked,  "  can  you  think  of 
anything  more  to  be  done  ?  " 

I  straightened  my  back  and  laughed. 

"Haven't  you  worked  us  hard  enough?"  I  in 
quired.  "  Unless  you  gild  the  cabins,  I  don't  see  what 
else  there  can  be  to  do." 

Captain  Selover  stared  me  over. 

"  And  you  a  naval  man !  "  he  marvelled.  "  Don't 
you  see  that  the  only  thing  that  keeps  this  crew  from 
gettin'  restless  is  keeping  them  busy?  I've  sweat  a 
damn  sight  more  with  my  brain  than  you  have  with 
your  back  thinking  up  things  to  do.  I  can't  see  any- 


122  THE    MYSTERY 

thing  ahead,  and  then  we'll  have  hell  to  pay.  Oh, 
they're  a  sweet  lot !  " 

I  whistled  and  my  crest  fell.  Here  was  a  new  point 
of  view;  and  also  a  new  Captain  Ezra.  Where  was 
the  confidence  in  the  might  of  his  two  hands? 

He  seemed  to  read  my  thoughts,  and  went  on. 

"  I  don't  feel  sure  here  on  this  cussed  land.  It  ain't 
like  a  deck  where  a  man  has  some  show.  They  can 
scatter.  They  can  hide.  It  ain't  right  to  put  a  man 
ashore  alone  with  such  a  crew.  I'm  doing  my  best, 
but  it  ain't  goin'  to  be  good  enough.  I  wisht  we  were 
safe  in  'Frisco  harbour " 

He  would  have  maundered  on,  but  I  seized  his  arm 
and  led  him  out  of  possible  hearing  of  the  men. 

"  Here,  buck  up !  "  I  said  to  him  sternly.  "  There's 
nothing  to  be  scared  of.  If  it  comes  to  a  row,  there's 
three  of  us  and  we've  got  guns.  We  could  even  sail 
the  schooner  at  a  pinch,  and  leave  them  here.  You've 
stood  them  off  before." 

"  Not  ashore,"  protested  Captain  Selover  weakly. 

"  Well,  they  don't  know  that.  For  God's  sake  don't 
let  them  see  you've  lost  your  nerve  this  way."  He  did 
not  even  wince  at  the  accusation.  "  Put  up  a  front." 

He  shook  his  head.  The  sand  had  completely  run 
out  of  him.  Yet  I  am  convinced  that  if  he  could  have 
felt  the  heave  and  roll  of  the  deck  beneath  him,  he 
would  have  faced  three  times  the  difficulties  he  now 
feared.  However,  I  could  see  readily  enough  the  wis 
dom  of  keeping  the  men  at  work. 

!<  You  can  wreck  the  Golden  Horn/'  I  suggested. 
"  I  don't  know  whether  there's  anything  left  worth 
salvage;  but  it'll  be  something  to  do." 


SELOVER  LOSES  HIS  NERVE   123 

He  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Good!  "  he  cried,  "  I  never  thought  of  it." 

"  Another  thing,"  said  I,  "  you  better  give  them 
a  day  off  a  week.  That  can't  hurt  them  and  it'll  waste 
just  that  much  more  time." 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Captain  Selover. 

"  Another  thing  yet.  You  know  I'm  not  lazy,  so 
it  ain't  that  I'm  trying  to  dodge  work.  But  you'd  bet 
ter  lay  me  off.  It'll  be  so  much  more  for  the  others." 

"  That's  true,"  said  he. 

I  could  not  recognise  the  man  for  what  I  knew  him 
to  be.  He  groped,  as  one  in  the  dark,  or  as  a  sea  animal 
taken  out  of  its  element  and  placed  on  the  sands. 
Courage  had  given  place  to  fear ;  decision  to  wavering ; 
and  singleness  of  purpose  to  a  divided  counsel.  He 
who  had  so  thoroughly  dominated  the  entire  ship, 
eagerly  accepted  advice  of  me — a  man  without  ex 
perience. 

That  evening  I  sat  apart  considerably  disturbed.  I 
felt  that  the  ground  had  dropped  away  beneath  my 
feet.  To  be  sure,  everything  was  tranquil  at  present; 
but  now  I  understood  the  source  of  that  tranquillity 
and  how  soon  it  must  fail.  With  opportunity  would 
come  more  scheming,  more  speculation,  more  cupidity. 
How  was  I  to  meet  it,  with  none  to  back  me  but  a 
scared  man^  an  absorbed  man,  and  an  indifferent  man  ? 


VIII 
WRECKING    OF    THE    GOLDEN   HORN 

PERCY  DARROW,  unexpected,  made  his  first  visit  to 
us  the  very  next  evening.  He  sauntered  in  with  a 
Mexican  corn-husk  cigarette  between  his  lips,  carrying 
a  lantern;  blew  the  light  out,  and  sat  down  with  a 
careless  greeting,  as  though  he  had  seen  us  only  the 
day  before. 

"Hullo,  boys,"  said  he,  "been  busy?" 

"  How  are  ye,  sir  ? "  replied  Handy  Solomon. 
"  Good  Lord,  mates,  look  at  that !  " 

Our  eyes  followed  the  direction  of  his  forefinger. 
Against  the  dark  blue  of  the  evening  sky  to  north 
ward  glowed  a  faint  phosphorescence,  arch-shaped, 
from  which  shot,  with  pulsating  regularity,  long  shafts 
of  light.  They  beat  almost  to  the  zenith,  and  back 
again,  a  half  dozen  times,  then  the  whole  illumina 
tion  disappeared  with  the  suddenness  of  gas  turned 
out. 

"  Now  I  wonder  what  that  might  be ! "  marvelled 
Thrackles. 

"  Northern  lights,"  hazarded  Pulz.  "  I've  seen  them 
almost  like  that  in  the  Behring  Seas." 

"  Northern  lights  your  eye !  "  sneered  Handy  Solo 
mon.  "  You  may  have  seen  them  in  the  Behring  Seas, 
but  never  this  far  south,  and  in  August,  and  you  can 
kiss  the  Book  on  that." 

124 


WRECKING   OF    GOLDEN   HORN      125 

"  What  do  you  think,  sir  ?  "  Thrackles  inquired  of 
the  assistant. 

"  Devil's  fire,"  replied  Percy  Darrow  briefly.  "  The 
island's  a  little  queer.  I've  noticed  it  before." 

"  Debbil  fire,"   repeated  the  Nigger. 

Darrow  turned  directly  to  him. 

"  Yes,  devil's  fire ;  and  devils,  too,  for  all  I  know ; 
and  certainly  vampires.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  vam 
pires,  Doctor?  " 

"  No,"  growled  the  Nigger. 

"  Well,  they  are  women,  wonderful,  beautiful 
women.  A  man  on  a  long  voyage  would  just  smack 
his  lips  to  see  them.  They  have  shiny  grey  eyes,  and 
lips  red  as  raspberries.  When  you  meet  them  they 
will  talk  with  you  and  go  home  with  you.  And  then 
when  you're  asleep  they  tear  a  little  hole  in  your  neck 
with  their  sharp  claws,  and  they  suck  the  blood  with 
their  red  lips.  When  they  aren't  women,  they  take  the 
shape  of  big  bats  like  birds."  He  turned  to  me  with 
so  beautifully  casual  an  air  that  I  wanted  to  clap  him 
on  the  back  with  the  joy  of  it. 

"  By  the  way,  Eagen,  have  you  noticed  those  big 
bats  the  last  few  evenings,  over  by  the  cliff?  I  can't 
make  out  in  the  dusk  whether  they  are  vampires  or 
just  plain  bats."  He  directed  his  remarks  again  to 
the  Nigger.  "  Next  time  you  see  any  of  those  big 
bats,  Doctor,  just  you  notice  close.  If  they  have  just 
plain,  black  eyes,  they're  all  right;  but  if  they  have 
grey  eyes,  with  red  rims  around  'em,  they're  vam 
pires.  I  wish  you'd  let  me  know,  if  you  do  find  out. 
It's  interesting." 

"  Don'  get  me  near  no  bats/'  growled  the  Nigger. 


126  THE    MYSTERY 

r 

"  Where's  Selover  ?  "  inquired  Darrow. 

"  He  stays  aboard,"  I  hastened  to  say.  "  Wants 
to  keep  an  eye  on  the  ship." 

"That's  laudable.  What  have  you  been  doing?" 

"  We've  been  cleaning  ship.  Just  finished  yesterday 
•evening." 

"What  next?" 

"  We  were  thinking  of  wrecking  the  Golden  Horn." 

"  Quite  right.  Well,  if  you  want  any  help  with  your 
engines  or  anything  of  the  sort,  call  on  me." 

He  arose  and  began  to  light  his  lantern. 

"  I  hope  as  how  you're  getting  on  well  there  above, 
sir?"  ventured  Handy  Solomon  insinuatingly. 

"  Very  well,  I  thank  you,  my  man,"  replied  Percy 
Darrow  drily.  "  Remember  those  vampires,  Doctor." 

He  swung  the  lantern  and  departed  without  further 
speech.  We  followed  the  spark  of  it  until  it  disap 
peared  in  the  arroyo. 

Behind  us  bellowed  the  sea;  over  against  us  in  the 
sky  was  the  dull  threatening  glow  of  the  volcano; 
about  us  were  mysterious  noises  of  crying  birds,  bark 
ing  seals,  rustling  or  rushing  winds.  I  felt  the  throng 
ing  ghosts  of  all  the  old  world's  superstition  swirling 
madly  behind  us  in  the  eddies  that  twisted  the  smoke 
of  our  fire. 

We  wrecked  the  Golden  Horn.  Forward  was  a 
rusted-out  donkey  engine,  which  we  took  to  pieces  and 
put  together  again.  It  was  no  mean  job,  for  all  the 
running  parts  had  to  be  cleaned  smooth,  and  with  the 
exception  of  a  rudimentary  knowledge  on  the  part  of 
Pulz  and  Perdosa,  we  were  ignorant.  In  fact  we 
should  not  have  succeeded  at  all  had  it  not  been 


WRECKING   OF   GOLDEN   HORN      127 

for  Percy  Darrow  and  his  lantern.  The  first  even 
ing  we  took  him  over  to  the  cliff's  edge  he  laughed 
aloud. 

"  Jove,  boys,  how  could  you  guess  it  all  wrong/' 
he  wondered. 

With  a  few  brief  words  he  set  us  right,  Pulz,  Per- 
dosa,  and  I  listening  intently ;  the  others  indifferent  in 
the  hopelessness  of  being  able  to  comprehend.  Of 
course,  we  went  wrong  again  in  our  next  day's  ex 
periments;  but  Darrow  was  down  two  or  three  times 
a  week,  and  gradually  we  edged  toward  a  practical 
result. 

His  explanations  consumed  but  a  few  moments. 
After  they  were  finished,  we  adjourned  to  the  fire. 

Thus  we  came  gradually  to  a  better  acquaintance 
with  the  doctor's  assistant.  In  many  respects  he  re 
mained  always  a  puzzle  to  me.  Certainly  the  men 
never  knew  how  to  take  him.  He  was  evidently  not 
only  unafraid  of  them,  but  genuinely  indifferent  to 
them. 

Yet  he  displayed  a  certain  interest  in  their  needs 
and  affairs.  His  practical  knowledge  was  enormous.  I 
think  I  have  told  you  of  the  completeness  of  his  ar 
rangements — everything  had  been  foreseen  from 
grindstones  to  gas  nippers.  The  same  quality  of  con 
crete  speculation  showed  him  what  we  lacked  in  our 
own  lives. 

There  was,  as  you  remember,  the  matter  of 
Handy  Solomon's  steel  claw.  He  showed  Thrackles 
a  kind  of  lanyard  knot  that  deep-sea  person  had 
never  used.  He  taught  Captain  Selover  how  to  make 
soft  soap  out  of  one  species  of  seaweed.  Me,  he  ini- 


128  THE    MYSTERY 

tiated  in  the  art  of  fishing  with  a  white  bone  lure. 
Our  camp  itself  he  reconstructed  on  scientific  lines  so 
that  we  enjoyed  less  aromatic  smoke  and  more  pala 
table  dinner.  And  all  of  it  he  did  amusedly,  as  though 
his  ideas  were  almost  too  obvious  to  need  communica 
tion. 

We  became  in  a  manner  intimate  with  him.  He 
guyed  the  men  in  his  indolent  fashion,  playing  on  their 
credulity,  their  good  nature,  even  their  forbearance. 
They  alternately  grinned  and  scowled.  He  left  always 
a  confused  impression,  so  that  no  one  really  knew 
whether  he  cherished  rancour  against  Percy  Darrow 
or  kindly  feeling. 

The  Nigger  was  Barrow's  especial  prey.  The  as 
sistant  had  early  discovered  that  the  cook  was  given 
tc  signs,  omens,  and  superstitions. 

From  a  curious  scholar's  lore  he  drew  fantastics 
with  which  to  torment  his  victim.  We  heard  of  all 
the  witches,  warlocks,  incubi,  succibi,  harpies,  devils, 
imps,  and  haunters  of  Avitchi,  from  all  the  teachings 
of  history,  sacred  and  profane,  Hindu,  Egyptian,  Greek, 
mediaeval,  Swedenborg,  Rosicrucian,  theosophy,  the 
ology,  with  every  last  ounce  of  horror,  mystery,  shiv 
ers,  and  creeps  squeezed  out  of  them.  They  were  gor 
geous  ghost  stories,  for  they  were  told  by  a  man  fully 
informed  as  to  all  the  legendary  and  gruesome  de 
tails.  At  first  I  used  to  think  he  might  have  communi 
cated  it  more  effectively.  Then  I  saw  that  the  cool, 
drawling  manner,  the  level  voice,  were  in  reality  the 
highest  art. 

He  told  his  stories  in  a  half-amused,  detached  man 
ner  which  imposed  confidence  more  readily  than  any 


WRECKING   OF    GOLDEN   HORN      129 

amount  of  earnest  asseveration.  The  mere  fact  of  his 
own  belief  in  what  he  said  came  to  matter  little.  He 
was  the  vehicle  by  which  was  brought  accurate  knowl 
edge.  He  had  read  all  these  things,  and  now  reported 
them  as  he  had  read :  each  man  could  decide  for  him 
self  as  to  their  credibility. 

At  last  the  donkey  engine  was  cleared  and  rein 
stalled,  atop  the  cliff.  The  Nigger  built  under  her  a 
fire  of  black  walnut ;  Captain  Selover  handed  out  grog 
all  around;  and  we  started  her  up  with  a  cheer,  just 
to  see  the  wheels  revolve. 

Next  we  half  buried  some  long  hatches,  end  up,  to 
serve  as  bitts  for  the  lines,  hitched  our  cables  to  them, 
and  joyfully  commenced  the  task  of  pulling  the  Golden 
Horn  piece  by  piece  up  the  side  of  the  cliff. 

The  stores  were  badly  damaged  by  the  wet,  and 
there  was  no  liquor,  for  which  I  was  sincerely  grate 
ful.  We  broke  into  the  boxes,  and  arrayed  ourselves 
in  various  garments — which  speedily  fell  to  pieces — 
and  appropriated  gim-cracks  of  all  sorts.  There  were 
some  arms,  but  the  ammunition  had  gone  bad.  Per- 
dosa,  out  of  forty  or  fifty  mis-fires,  got  one  feeble 
sputter,  and  a  tremendous  bang  which  blew  up  his 
piece,  leaving  only  the  stock  in  his  hand.  A  few  tinned 
goods  were  edible;  but  all  the  rest  was  destroyed.  A 
lot  of  hard  woods,  a  thousand  feet  of  chain  cable,  and 
a  fairly  good  anchor  might  be  considered  as  prizes. 
As  for  the  rest,  it  was  foolishness,  but  we  hauled 
it  up  just  the  same  until  nothing  at  all  remained. 
Then  we  shut  off  the  donkey  engine,  and  put  on  dry 
clothes.  We  had  been  quite  happy  for  the  eight 
months. 


130  THE    MYSTERY 

It  was  now  well  along  toward  spring.  The  winter 
had  been  like  summer,  and  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  rains  of  a  week  or  so,  we  had  enjoyed  beautiful 
skies.  The  seals  had  thinned  out  considerably,  but 
were  now  returning  in  vast  numbers  ready  for  their 
annual  domestic  arrangements. 

Our  Sundays  we  had  mostly  spent  in  resting,  or  in 
fishing.  There  were  many  deep  sea  fish  to  be  had,  of 
great  palatability,  but  small  gameness;  they  came 
like  so  many  leaden  weights.  A  few  of  us  had  climbed 
some  of  the  hills  in  a  half-hearted  curiosity,  but  from 
their  summits  saw  nothing  to  tempt  weariness.  Prac 
tically  we  knew  nothing  beyond  the  mile  or  so  of 
beach  on  which  we  lived. 

Captain  Selover  had  made  a  habit  of  coming  ashore 
at  least  once  during  the  day.  He  had  contented  him 
self  with  standing  aloof,  but  I  took  pains  to  seem  to 
confer  with  him,  so  that  the  men  might  suppose  that 
I,  as  mate,  was  engaged  in  carrying  out  his  directions. 
The  dread  of  him  was  my  most  potent  influence  over 
them. 

During  the  last  few  days  of  our  wrecking,  Captain 
Selover  had  omitted  his  daily  visit.  The  fact  made  me 
uneasy,  so  that  at  my  first  opportunity  I  sculled 
myself  out  to  the  schooner.  I  found  him,  moist- 
eyed  as  usual,  leaning  against  the  mainmast  doing 
nothing. 

"  We've  finished,  sir,"  said  I. 

He  looked  at  me. 

"Will  you  come  ashore  and  have  a  look,  sir?"  I 
inquired. 

"  I  ain't  going  ashore  again,"  he  muttered  thickly. 


WRECKING   OF   GOLDEN   HORN      131 

"What!"  I  cried. 

"  I  ain't  going  ashore  again,"  he  repeated  obsti 
nately,  "  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  It's  too  much  of 
a  strain  on  any  man.  Suit  yourself.  You  run  them.  I 
shipped  as  captain  of  a  vessel.  I'm  no  dock  walloper. 
I  won't  do  it — for  no  man !  " 

I  gasped  with  dismay  at  the  man's  complete  moral 
collapse.  It  seemed  incredible.  I  caught  myself  won 
dering  whether  he  would  recover  tone  were  he  again 
to  put  to  sea. 

"  My  God,  man,  but  you  must!"  I  cried  at  last. 

"  I  won't,  and  that's  flat,"  said  he,  and  turned 
deliberately  on  his  heel  and  disappeared  in  the 
cabin. 

I  went  ashore  thoughtful  and  a  little  scared.  But  on 
reflection  I  regained  a  great  part  of  my  ease  of  mind. 
You  see,  I  had  been  with  these  men  now  eight  months, 
during  which  they  had  been  as  orderly  as  so  many 
primary  schoolboys.  They  had  Worked  hard,  without 
grumbling,  and  had  even  approached  a  sort  of  friend 
liness  about  the  camp  fire.  My  first  impression  was 
overlaid.  As  I  looked  back  on  the  voyage,  with  what 
I  took  to  be  a  clearer  vision,  I  could  not  but  admit 
that  the  incidents  were  in  themselves  trivial  enough — 
a  natural  excitement  by  a  superstitious  negro,  a  little 
tall  talk  that  meant  nothing.  It  must  have  been  the 
glamour  of  the  adventure  that  had  deceived  me ;  that, 
and  the  unusual  stage  setting  and  costuming.  Cer 
tainly  few  men  would  work  hard  for  eight  months 
without  a  murmur,  without  a  chance  to  look  about 
them. 

In  that,  of  course,  I  was  deceived  by  my  inexperi- 


132  THE    MYSTERY 

ence.  I  realised  later  the  wonderful  effect  Captain 
Selover  threw  away  with  his  empty  brandy  bottles. 
The  crew  might  grumble  and  plot  during  the  watch 
below;  but  when  Captain  Ezra  Selover  said  work, 
they  worked.  He  had  been  saying  work,  for  eight 
months.  They  had,  from  force  of  experience,  obeyed 
him.  It  was  all  very  simple. 


IX 
THE   EMPTY   BRANDY    BOTTLE 

So  there  I  was  at  once  deprived  of  my  chief  support. 
Although  no  danger  seemed  imminent,  nevertheless 
the  necessity  of  acting  on  my  own  initiative  and  re 
sponsibility  oppressed  me  somewhat. 

Truth  to  tell,  after  the  first,  I  was  more  relieved  than 
dismayed  at  the  captain's  resolution  to  stay  aboard. 
His  drinking  habit  was  growing  on  him,  and  afloat  or 
ashore  he  was  now  little  more  than  a  figurehead,  so 
that  my  chief  asset  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  was 
rather  his  reputation  than  his  direct  influence.  In  con 
tact  with  the  men,  I  dreaded  lest  sooner  or  later  he  da 
something  to  lessen  or  destroy  the  awe  in  which  they 
held  him. 

Of  course  Dr.  Schermerhorn  had  been  mistaken  in 
his  man:  A  real  captain  of  men  would  have  risen  to 
circumstances  wherever  he  found  them.  But  who  could 
have  foretold?  Captain  Selover  had  been  a  rascal 
always,  but  a  successful  and  courageous  rascal.  He 
had  run  desperate  chances,  dominated  desperate  crews. 
Who  could  know  that  a  crumble  of  island  beach  and 
six  months  ashore  would  turn  him  into  what  he  had 
become?  Yet  I  believe  such  cases  are  not  uncommon 
in  other  walks  of  life.  A  man  and  his  work  combine  to 
mean  something;  yet  both  may  be  absolutely  useless 
when  separated.  It  was  the  weak  link 

I  put  in  some  time  praying  earnestly  that  the  eyes 

133 


I34  THE    MYSTERY 

of  the  crew  might  be  blinded,  a,nd  that  the  doctor 
would  finish  his  experiments  before  the  cauldron  could 
boil  up  again. 

My  first  act  as  real  commander  was  to  announce  holi 
day.  My  idea  was  that  the  island  would  keep  the  men 
busy  for  a  while.  Then  I  would  assign  them  more  work 
to  do.  They  proposed  at  once  a  tour  into  the  interior. 

We  started  up  the  west  coast.  After  three  or  four 
miles  along  a  mesa  formation  where  often  we  had  to 
circle  long  detours  to  avoid  the  gullies,  we  came  upon 
another  short  beach,  and  beyond  it  a  series  of  ledges 
on  which  basked  several  hundred  seals.  They  did  not 
seem  alarmed.  In  fact  one  old  bull,  scarred  by  many 
battles,  made  toward  us. 

We  left  him,  scaled  the  cliff,  and  turned  up  a  broad, 
pleasant  valley  toward  the  interior. 

There  the  later  lava  flow  had  been  deflected.  All 
that  showed  of  the  original  eruption  were  occasional 
red  outcropping  rocks.  Soil  and  grass  had  overlaid 
the  mineral.  Scattered  trees  were  planted  throughout 
the  flat.  Cacti  and  semi-tropical  bushes  mingled  with 
brush  on  the  rounded  side  hills.  A  number  of  brilliant 
birds  fluttered  at  our  approach. 

Suddenly  Handy  Solomon,  who  was  in  advance, 
stopped  and  pointed  to  the  crest  of  the  hill.  A  file  of 
animals  moved  along  the  sky  line. 

"Mutton!"  said  he,  "or  the  devil's  a  preacher!" 

"  Sheep!  "  cried  Thrackles.  "  Where  did  they  come 
from?" 

"Golden  Horn''  I  suggested.  "Remember  that 
wide,  empty  deck  forward  ?  They  carried  sheep  there." 

The  men  separated,  intending  fresh  meat.  The  af- 


THE    EMPTY    BRANDY    BOTTLE      135 

fair  was  ridiculous.  These  sheep  had  become  as  wild 
as  deer.  Our  surrounding  party  with  its  silly  bared 
knives  could  only  look  after  them  open-mouthed,  as 
they  skipped  nimbly  between  its  members. 

"  Get  a  gun  of  the  Old  Man,  Mr.  Eagen,"  suggested 
Pulz,  "and  we'll  have  something  besides  salt  horse 
and  fish." 

I  nodded. 

We  continued.  The  island  was  like  this  as  far  as  we 
went.  When  we  climbed  a  ridge,  we  found  ourselves 
looking  down  on  a  spider-web  of  other  valleys  and 
canons  of  the  same  nature,  all  diverging  to  broad 
downs  and  a  jump  into  the  sea,  all  converging  to  the 
outworks  that  guarded  the  volcano  with  its  canopy  of 
vapour. 

On  our  way  home  we  cut  across  the  higher  country 
and  the  heads  of  the  canons  until  we  found  ourselves 
looking  down  on  the  valley  and  Dr.  Schermer- 
horn's  camp.  The  steam  from  the  volcanic  blowholes 
swayed  below  us.  Through  its  rifts  we  saw  the  tops 
of  the  buildings.  Presently  we  made  out  Percy  Dar- 
row,  dressed  in  overalls,  his  sleeves  rolled  back,  and 
carrying  a  retort.  He  walked,  very  preoccupied,  to  one 
of  the  miniature  craters,  where  he  knelt  and  went 
through  some  operation  indistinguishable  at  the  dis 
tance.  I  looked  around  to  see  my  companions  staring 
at  him  fascinated,  their  necks  craned  out,  their  bodies 
drawn  back  into  hiding.  In  a  moment  he  had  finished, 
and  carried  the  retort  carefully  into  the  laboratory. 
The  men  sighed  and  stood  erect,  once  more  themselves. 
As  we  turned  away  Perdosa  voiced  what  must  have 
been  in  the  minds  of  all. 


136  THE    MYSTERY 

"  A  man  could  climb  down  there,"  said  he. 

"  Why  should  he  want  to  ?  "  I  demanded  sharply. 

"  Quien  sabe?  "  shrugged  he. 

We  turned  in  silence  toward  the  beach.  Each 
brooded  his  thoughts.  The  sight  of  that  man  dressed 
in  overalls,  carrying  on  some  mysterious  business, 
brought  home  to  each  of  us  the  fact  that  our  expedi 
tion  had  an  object,  as  yet  unknown  to  us.  The  thought 
had  of  late  dropped  into  the  background.  For  my  part 
I  had  been  so  immersed  in  the  adventure  and  the  la 
bour  and  the  insistent  need  of  the  hour  that  I  had 
forgotten  why  I  had  come.  Dr.  Schermerhorn's 
purpose  was  as  inscrutable  to  me  as  at  first.  What  had 
I  accomplished? 

The  men,  too,  seemed  struck  with  some  such  idea. 
There  were  no  yarns  about  the  camp  fire  that  night. 
Percy  Darrow  did  not  appear,  for  which  I  was  sin 
cerely  sorry.  His  presence  might  have  created  a  diver 
sion.  For  some  unknown  reason  all  my  old  apprehen 
sions,  my  sense  of  impending  disaster,  had  returned  to 
me  strengthened.  In  the  firelight  the  Nigger's  sullen 
face  looked  sinister,  Pulz's  nervous  white  countenance 
looked  vicious.  Thrackles'  heavy,  bulldog  expression 
was  threatening,  Perdosa's  Mexican  cast  fit  for  knife 
work  in  the  back.  And  Handy  Solomon,  stretched  out, 
leaning  on  his  elbow,  with  his  red  headgear,  his  snaky 
hair,  his  hook  nose,  his  restless  eye  and  his  glittering 
steel  claw — the  glow  wrote  across  his  aura  the  names 
of  Kid,  Morgan,  Blackbeard. 

They  sat  smoking,  staring  into  the  fire  with  mes 
merised  eyes.  The  silence  got  on  my  nerves.  I  arose 
impatiently  and  walked  down  the  pale  beach,  where 


' 


These  sheep  had  become  as  wild  as  deer ' ' 


THE    EMPTY    BRANDY    BOTTLE      137 

the  stars  glimmered  in  splashes  along  the  wettest 
sands.  The  black  silhouette  of  the  hills  against  the 
dark  blue  of  the  night  sky;  the  white  of  breakers 
athwart  the  indistinct  heave  of  the  ocean,  a  faint  light 
marking  the  position  of  the  Laughing  Lass — that  was 
everything  in  the  world.  I  made  out  some  object  rolled 
about  in  the  edge  of  the  wash.  At  the  cost  of  wet  feet 
I  rescued  it.  It  was  an  empty  brandy  bottle. 


X 

CHANGE   OF   MASTERS 

THE  next  day  we  continued  our  explorations  by  land, 
and  so  for  a  week  after  that.  I  thought  it  best  not  to 
relinquish  all  authority,  so  I  organised  regular  expedi 
tions,  and  ordered  their  direction.  The  men  did  not 
object.  It  was  all  good  enough  fun  to  them. 

The  net  results  were  that  we  found  a  nesting  place 
of  sea  birds — too  late  in  the  season  for  eggs;  a  hot 
spring  near  enough  camp  to  be  useful;  and  that  was 
about  all.  The  sheep  were  the  only  animals  on  the 
island,  although  there  were  several  sorts  of  birds. 
In  general,  the  country  was  as  I  have  described  it — 
either  volcanic  or  overlaid  with  fertile  earth.  In  any 
case  it  was  canon  and  hill.  We  soon  grew  tired  of 
climbing  and  turned  our  attention  to  the  sea. 

With  the  surf  boat  we  skirted  the  coast.  It  was 
impregnable  except  in  three  places:  our  own  beach, 
that  near  the  seal  rookery,  and  on  the  south  side  of 
the  island.  We  landed  at  each  one  of  these  places. 
But  returning  close  to  the  coast  we  happened  upon  a 
cave  mouth  more  or  less  guarded  by  an  outlying  rock. 

The  day  was  calm,  so  we  ventured  in.  At  first  I 
thought  it  merely  a  gorge  in  the  rock,  but  even  while 
peering  for  the  end  wall  we  slipped  under  the  arch 
way  and  found  ourselves  in  a  vast  room. 

Our  eyes  were  dazzled  so  we  could  make  out  little 

138 


CHANGE    OF    MASTERS  139 

at  first.  But  through  the  still,  clear  water  the  light 
filtered  freely  from  below,  showing  the  bottom  as 
through  a  sea  glass.  We  saw  the  fish  near  the  en 
trance,  and  coral  and  sea  growths  of  marvellous  vivid 
ness.  They  waved  slowly  as  in  a  draught  of  air.  The 
medium  in  which  they  floated  was  absolutely  invis 
ible,  for,  of  course,  there  were  no  reflections  from  its 
surface.  We  seemed  to  be  suspended  in  mid-air,  and 
only  when  the  dipping  oars  made  rings  could  we  realise 
that  anything  sustained  us. 

Suddenly  the  place  let  loose  in  pandemonium.  The 
most  fiendish  cries,  groans,  shrieks,  broke  out,  confus 
ing  themselves  so  thoroughly  with  their  own  echoes 
that  the  volume  of  sound  was  continuous.  Heavy 
splashes  shook  the  water.  The  boat  rocked.  The  in 
visible  surface  was  broken  into  facets. 

We  shrank,  terrified.  From  all  about  us  glowed 
hundreds  of  eyes  like  coals  of  fire — on  a  level  with  us, 
above  us,  almost  over  our  heads.  Two  by  two  the 
coals  were  extinguished. 

Below  us  the  bottom  was  clouded  with  black  figures, 
darting  rapidly  like  a  school  of  minnows  beneath  a 
boat.  They  darkened  the  coral  and  the  sands  and  the 
glistening  sea  growths  just  as  a  cloud  temporarily 
darkens  the  landscape — only  the  occultations  and 
brightenings  succeeded  each  other  much  more  swiftly. 

We  stared  stupefied,  our  thinking  power  blurred  by 
the  incessent  whirl  of  motion  and  noise. 

Suddenly  Thrackles  laughed  aloud. 

"  Seals !  "  he  shouted  through  his  trumpeted  hands. 

Our  eyes  were  expanding  to  the  twilight.  We  could 
make  out  the  arch  of  the  room,  its  shelves,  and  hoi- 


i4o  THE    MYSTERY 

lows,  and  niches.  Lying  on  them  we  could  discern  the 
seals,  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  them,  all  staring  at 
us,  all  barking  and  bellowing.  As  we  approached,  they 
scrambled  from  their  elevations,  and,  diving  to  the 
bottom,  scurried  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave. 

We  lay  on  our  oars  for  ten  minutes.  Then  silence 
fell.  There  persisted  a  tiny  drip,  drip,  drip  from  some 
point  in  the  darkness.  It  merely  accentuated  the  hush. 
Suddenly  from  far  in  the  interior  of  the  hill  there 
came  a  long,  hollow  boo-o-o-m!  It  reverberated,  roar 
ing.  The  surge  that  had  lifted  our  boat  some  minutes 
before  thus  reached  its  journey's  end. 

The  chamber  was  very  lofty.  As  we  rowed  cau 
tiously  in,  it  lost  nothing  of  its  height,  but  something 
in  width.  It  was  marvellously  coloured,  like  all  the 
volcanic  rocks  of  this  island.  In  addition  some  chemi 
cal  drip  had  thrown  across  its  vividness  long  gauzy 
streamers  of  white.  We  rowed  in  as  far  as  the  faintest 
daylight  lasted  us.  The  occasional  reverberating  boom 
of  the  surges  seemed  as  distant  as  ever. 

This  was  beyond  the  seal  rookery  on  the  beach.  Be 
low  it  we  entered  an  open  cleft  of  some  size  to  another 
squarer  cave.  It  was  now  high  tide;  the  water  ex 
tended  a  scant  ten  fathoms  to  end  on  an  interior  shale 
beach.  The  cave  was  a  perfectly  straight  passage  fol 
lowing  the  line  of  the  cleft.  How  far  in  it  reached  we 
could  not  determine,  for  it,  too,  was  full  of  seals,  and 
after  we  had  driven  them  back  a  hundred  feet  or  so 
their  fiery  eyes  scared  us  out.  We  did  not  care  to 
put  them  at  bay. 

The  next  day  I  rowed  out  to  the  Laughing  Lass  and 
got  a  rifle.  I  found  the  captain  asleep  in  his  bunk,  and 


CHANGE    OF    MASTERS  141 

did  not  disturb  him.  Perdosa  and  I,  with  infinite  pains, 
tracked  and  stalked  the  sheep,  of  which  I  killed  one. 
We  found  the  mutton  excellent.  The  hunting  was 
difficult,  and  the  quarry,  as  time  went  on,  more  and 
more  suspicious,  but  henceforward  we  did  not  lack  for 
fresh  meat.  Furthermore  we  soon  discovered  that  fine 
trolling  was  to  be  had  outside  the  reef.  We  rigged  a 
sail  for  the  extra  dory,  and  spent  much  of  our  time  at 
the  sport.  I  do  not  know  the  names  of  the  fish.  They 
were  very  gamy  indeed,  and  ran  from  five  to  an  in 
determinate  number  of  pounds  in  weight.  Above  fifty 
pounds  our  light  tackle  parted,  so  we  had  no  means 
of  knowing  how  large  they  may  have  been. 

Thus  we  spent  very  pleasantly  the  greater  part  of 
two  weeks.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  it  would  be  just  as  well  to  get  back  to  busi 
ness.  Accordingly  I  called  Perdosa  and  directed  him 
to  sort  and  clear  of  rust  the  salvaged  chain  cable.  He 
refused  flatly.  I  took  a  step  toward  him.  He  drew  his 
knife  and  backed  away. 

"  Perdosa,"  said  I  firmly,  "  put  up  that  knife." 

"  No,"  said  he. 

I  pulled  the  saw-barrelled  Colt's  45  and  raised  it 
slowly  to  a  level  with  his  breast. 

"  Perdosa,"  I  repeated,  "  drop  that  knife." 

The  crisis  had  come,  but  my  resolution  was  fully 
prepared  for  it.  I  should  not  have  cared  greatly  if  I 
had  had  to  shoot  the  man — as  I  certainly  should  have 
done  had  he  disobeyed.  There  would  then  have  been 
one  less  to  deal  with  in  the  final  accounting,  which 
strangely  enough  I  now  for  a  moment  never  doubted 
would  come.  I  had  not  before  aimed  at  a  man's  life, 


142  THE    MYSTERY 

so  you  can  see  to  what  tensity  the  baffling  mystery 
had  strung  me. 

Perdosa  hesitated  a  fraction  of  an  instant.  I  really 
think  he  might  have  chanced  it,  but  Handy  Solo 
mon,  who  had  been  watching  me  closely,  growled  at 
him. 

"  Drop  it,  you  fool !  "  he  said. 

Perdosa  let  fall  the  knife. 

"  Now,  get  at  that  cable,"  I  commanded,  still  at 
white  heat.  I  stood  over  him  until  he  was  well  at 
work,  then  turned  back  to  set  tasks  for  the  other  men. 
Handy  Solomon  met  me  halfway. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Eagen,"  said  he,  "  I 
want  a  word  with  you." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,"  I  snapped,  still  ex 
cited. 

"  It  ain't  reasonable  not  to  hear  a  man's  say,"  he 
advised  in  his  most  conciliatory  manner,  "  I'm  talking 
for  all  of  us." 

He  paused  a  moment,  took  my  silence  for  consent, 
and  went  ahead. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Eagen,"  said  he,  "  we 
ain't  going  to  do  any  more  useless  work.  There  ain't 
no  laziness  about  us,  but  we  ain't  going  to  be  busy  at 
nothing.  All  the  camp  work  and  the  haulin'  and  cut- 
tin'  and  cleanin'  and  the  rest  of  it,  we'll  do  gladly.  But 
we  ain't  goin'  to  pound  any  more  cable,  and  you  can 
kiss  the  Book  on  that." 

:<  You  mean  to  mutiny  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  made  a  deprecatory  gesture. 

"  Put  us  aboard  ship,  sir,  and  let  us  hear  the  Old 
Man  give  his  orders,  and  you'll  find  no  mutiny  in  us. 


Drop  it,  you  fool  ! 


CHANGE    OF    MASTERS  143 

But  here  ashore  it's  different.  Did  the  Old  Man  give 
orders  to  pound  the  cable  ?  " 

"  I  represent  the  captain,"  I  stammered. 

He  caught  the  evasion.  "  I  thought  so.  Well,  if  you 
got  any  kick  on  us,  please,  sir,  go  get  the  Old  Man. 
If  he  says  to  our  face,  pound  cable,  why  pound  cable 
it  is.  Ain't  that  right,  boys?" 

They  murmured  something.  Perdosa  deliberately 
dropped  his  hammer  and  joined  the  group.  My  hand 
strayed  again  toward  the  sawed-off  Colt's  45. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that,"  said  Handy  Solomon,  almost 
kindly.  "  You  couldn't  kill  us  all.  And  w'at  good 
would  it  do  ?  I  asks  you  that.  I  can  cut  down  a  chicken 
with  my  knife  at  twenty  feet.  You  must  surely  see,  sir, 
that  I  could  have  killed  you  too  easy  while  you  were 
covering  Pancho  there.  This  ain't  got  to  be  a  war, 
Mr.  Eagen,  just  because  we  don't  want  to  work  with 
out  any  sense  to  it." 

There  was  more  of  the  same  sort.  I  had  plenty  of 
time  to  see  my  dilemma.  Either  I  would  have  to  aban 
don  my  attempt  to  keep  the  men  busy,  or  I  would  have 
to  invoke  the  authority  of  Captain  Selover.  To  do  the 
latter  would  be  to  destroy  it.  The  master  had  become 
a  stuffed  figure,  a  bogie  with  which  to  frighten,  an 
empty  bladder  that  a  prick  would  collapse.  With  what 
grace  I  could  muster,  I  had  to  give  in. 

"  You'll  have  to  have  it  your  own  way,  I  suppose," 
I  snapped. 

Thrackles  grinned,  and  Pulz  started  to  say  some 
thing,  but  Handy  Solomon,  with  a  peremptory  ges 
ture,  and  a  black  scowl,  stopped  him  short. 

"  Now  that's  what  I  calls  right  proper  and  hand- 


144  THE    MYSTERY 

some !  "  he  cried  admiringly.  "  We  reely  had  no  right 
to  expect  that,  boys,  as  seamen,  from  our  first  officer! 
You  can  kiss  the  Book  on  it,  that  very  few  crews  have 
such  kind  masters.  Mr.  Eagen  has  the  right,  and  we 
signed  to  it  all  straight,  to  work  us  as  he  pleases; 
and  w'at  does  he  do?  Why,  he  up  and  gives  us  a 
week  shore  leave,  and  then  he  gives  us  light  watches, 
and  all  the  time  our  pay  goes  on  just  the  same.  Now 
that's  w'at  I  calls  right  proper  and  handsome  conduct, 
or  the  devil's  a  preacher,  and  I  ventures  with  all  re 
spect  to  propose  three  cheers  for  Mr.  Eagen." 

They  gave  them,  grinning  broadly.  The  villain 
stood  looking  at  me,  a  sardonic  gleam  in  the  back  of 
his  eye.  Then  he  gave  a  little  hitch  to  his  red  head 
covering,  and  sauntered  away  humming  between  his 
teeth.  I  stood  watching  him,  choked  with  rage  and 
indecision.  The  humming  broke  into  words. 

"  *  Oh,  quarter,  oh,  quarter ! '  the  jolly  pirates  cried. 

Blow  high,  blow  low!   What  care  we? 
But  the  quarter  that  we  gave  them  was  to  sink  them 

in  the  sea, 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e" 

"  Here,  you  swab,"  he  cried  to  Thrackles,  "  and 
you,  Pancho!  get  some  wood,  lively!  And  Pulz,  bring 
us  a  pail  of  water.  Doctor,  let's  have  duff  to  cele 
brate  on." 

The  men  fell  to  work  with  alacrity. 


IX 

THE  CORROSIVE 

THAT  evening  I  smoked  in  a  splendid  isolation  while 
the  men  whispered  apart.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but 
smoke,  and  to  chew  my  cud,  which  was  bitter.  There 
could  be  no  doubt,  however  I  may  have  saved  my 
face,  that  command  had  been  taken  from  me  by  that 
rascal,  Handy  Solomon.  I  was  in  two  minds  as  to 
whether  or  not  I  should  attempt  to  warn  Darrow  or 
the  doctor.  Yet  what  could  I  say?  and  against 
whom  should  I  warn  them?  The  men  had  grumbled, 
as  men  always  do  grumble  in  idleness,  and  had  per 
haps  talked  a  little  wildly;  but  that  was  nothing. 

The  only  indisputable  fact  I  could  adduce  was  that 
I  had  allowed  my  authority  to  slip  through  my  fin 
gers.  And  adequately  to  excuse  that,  I  should  have 
to  confess  that  I  was  a  writer  and  no  handler  of  men. 

I  abandoned  the  unpleasant  train  of  thought  with  a 
snort  of  disgust,  but  it  had  led  me  to  another.  In  the 
joy  and  uncertainty  of  living  I  had  practically  lost 
sight  of  the  reason  for  my  coming.  With  me  it  had 
always  been  more  the  adventure  than  the  story;  my 
writing  was  a  by-product,  a  utilisation  of  what  life 
offered  me.  I  had  set  sail  possessed  by  the  sole  idea 
of  ferreting  out  Dr.  Schermerhorn's  investigations, 
but  the  gradual  development  of  affairs  had  ended 
by  absorbing  my  every  faculty.  Now,  cast  into  an 
eddy  by  my  change  of  fortunes,  the  original  idea 

145 


146  THE    MYSTERY 

regained  its  force.  I  was  out  of  the  active  government 
of  affairs,  with  leisure  on  my  hands,  and  my  thoughts 
naturally  turned  with  curiosity  again  to  the  laboratory 
in  the  valley. 

Barrow's  "  devil  fires  "  were  again  painting  the  sky. 
I  had  noticed  them  from  time  to  time,  always  with  in 
creasing  wonder.  The  men  accepted  them  easily  as 
only  one  of  the  unexplained  phenomena  of  a  sailor's 
experience,  brt  I  had  not  as  yet  hit  on  a  hypothesis 
that  suited  me.  They  were  not  allied  to  the  aurora; 
they  differed  radically  from  the  ordinary  volcanic 
emanations;  and  scarcely  resembled  any  electrical  dis 
plays  I  had  ever  seen.  The  night  was  cool;  the  stars 
bright:  I  resolved  to  investigate. 

Without  further  delay  I  arose  to  my  feet  and  set 
off  into  the  darkness.  Immediately  one  of  the  group 
detached  himself  from  the  fire  and  joined  me. 

"  Going  for  a  little  walk,  sir?  "  asked  Handy  Solo 
mon  sweetly.  "  That's  quite  right  and  proper.  Nothin' 
like  a  little  walk  to  get  you  fit  and  right  for  your 
bunk." 

He  held  close  to  my  elbow.  We  got  just  as  far  as 
the  stockade  in  the  bed  of  the  arroyo.  The  lights  we 
could  make  out  now  across  the  zenith;  but  owing  to 
the  precipitance  of  the  cliffs,  and  the  rise  of  the  arroyo 
bed,  it  was  impossible  to  see  more.  Handy  Solomon 
felt  the  defences  carefully. 

"  A  man  would  think,  sir,  it  was  a  cannibal  island," 
he  observed.  "  All  so  tight  and  tidy-like  here.  It 
would  take  a  ship's  guns  to  batter  her  down.  A  man 
might  dig  under  these  here  two  gate  logs,  if  no  one 
was  against  him.  Like  to  try  it,  sir?  " 


THE    CORROSIVE  147 

"  No,"  I  answered  gruffly. 

From  that  time  on  I  was  virtually  a  prisoner;  yet 
so  carefully  was  my  surveillance  accomplished  that  I 
could  place  my  finger  on  nothing  definite.  Someone 
always  accompanied  me  on  my  walks ;  and  in  the  even 
ing  I  was  herded  as  closely  as  any  cattle. 

Handy  Solomon  took  the  direction  of  affairs  off 
my  hands.  You  may  be  sure  he  set  no  very  heavy 
tasks.  The  men  cut  a  little  wood,  carried  up  a  few 
pails  of  water — that  was  all. 

Lacking  incentive  to  stir  about,  they  came  to  spend 
most  of  their  time  lying  on  their  backs  watching  the 
sky.  This  in  turn  bred  a  languor  which  is  the  sickest, 
most  soul-  and  temper-destroying  affair  invented  by 
the  devil.  They  could  not  muster  up  energy  enough  to 
walk  down  the  beach  and  back,  and  yet  they  were 
wearied  to  death  of  the  inaction.  After  a  little  they 
became  irritable  toward  one  another.  Each  suspected 
the  other  of  doing  less  than  he  should.  You  who  know 
men  will  realise  what  this  meant. 

The  atmosphere  of  our  camp  became  surly.  I  recog 
nised  the  precursor  of  its  becoming  dangerous.  One 
day  on  a  walk  in  the  hills  I  came  on  Thrackles  and 
Pulz  lying  on  their  stomachs  gazing  down  fixedly  at 
Dr.  Schermerhorn's  camp.  This  was  nothing  extraor 
dinary,  but  they  started  guiltily  to  their  feet  when 
they  saw  me,  and  made  off,  growling  under  their 
breaths. 

All  this  that  I  have  told  you  so  briefly,  took  time. 
It  was  the  eating  through  of  men's  spirits  by  that 
worst  of  corrosives,  idleness.  I  conceive  it  unnecessary 
to  weary  you  with  the  details 


i48  THE    MYSTERY 

The  situation  was  as  yet  uneasy  but  not  alarming. 
One  evening  I  overheard  the  beginning  of  an  absurd 
plot  to  gain  entrance  to  the  Valley — that  was  as  far 
as  detail  went.  I  became  convinced  at  last  that  I  should 
in  some  way  warn  Percy  Darrow. 

That  seems  a  simple  enough  proposition,  does  it 
not?  But  if  you  will  stop  to  think  one  moment  of  the 
difficulties  of  my  position,  you  will  see  that  it  was  not 
as  easy  as  at  first  it  appears.  Darrow  still  visited  us 
in  the  evening.  The  men  never  allowed  me  even  the 
chance  of  private  communication  while  he  was  with 
us.  One  or  two  took  pains  to  stretch  out  between  us. 
Twice  I  arose  when  the  assistant  did,  resolved  to  ac 
company  him  part  way  back.  Both  times  men  reso 
lutely  escorted  us,  and  as  resolutely  separated  us 
from  the  opportunity  of  a  single  word  apart.  The 
crew  never  threatened  me  by  word  or  look.  But  we 
understood  each  other. 

I  was  not  permitted  to  row  out  to  the  Laughing 
Lass  without  escort.  Therefore  I  never  attempted  to 
visit  her  again.  The  men  were  not  anxious  to  do  so; 
their  awe  of  the  captain  made  them  only  too  glad  to 
escape  his  notice.  That  empty  shell  of  a  past  reputa 
tion  was  my  only  hope.  It  shielded  the  arms  and 
ammunition. 

As  I  look  back  on  it  now,  the  period  seems  to  me 
to  be  one  of  merely  potential  trouble.  The  men  had 
not  taken  the  pains  to  crystallise  their  ideas.  I  really 
think  their  compelling  emotion  was  that  of  curiosity. 
They  wanted  to  see.  It  needed  a  definite  impulse  to 
change  that  desire  to  one  of  greed. 

The  impulse  came  from  Percy  Darrow  and  his  idle 


THE    CORROSIVE  149 

talk  of  voodoos.  As  usual  he  was  directing  his  re 
marks  to  the  sullen  Nigger. 

"Voodoos?"  he  said.  "  Of  course  there  are.  Don't 
fool  yourself  for  a  minute  on  that.  There  are  good 
ones  and  bad  ones.  You  can  tame  them  if  you  know 
how,  and  they  will  do  anything  you  want  them  to." 
Pulz  chuckled  in  his  throat.  "You  don't  believe  it?" 
drawled  the  assistant  turning  to  him.  "  Well,  it's  so. 
You  know  that  heavy  box  we  are  so  careful  of  ?  Well, 
that's  got  a  tame  voodoo  in  it." 

The  others  laughed. 

"  What  he  like  ?  "  asked  the  Nigger  gravely. 

"  He's  a  fine  voodoo,  with  wavery  arms  and  green 
eyes,  and  red  glows."  Watching  narrowly  its  effect 
he  swung  off  into  one  of  the  genuine  old  crooning 
voodoo  songs,  once  so  common  down  South,  now  so 
rarely  heard.  No  one  knows  what  the  words  mean — 
they  are  generally  held  to  be  charm-words  only — a 
magic  gibberish.  But  the  Nigger  sprang  across  the 
fire  like  lightning,  his  face  altered  by  terror,  to  seize 
Darrow  by  the  shoulders. 

"  Doan  you !  Doan  you ! "  he  gasped,  shaking 
the  assistant  violently  back  and  forth.  "  Dat  he  King 
Voodoo  song!  Dat  call  him  all  de  voodoo — 
all!" 

He  stared  wildly  about  in  the  darkness  as  though 
expecting  to  see  the  night  thronged.  There  was  a 
moment  of  confusion.  Eager  for  any  chance  I  hissed 
under  my  breath ;  "  Danger !  Look  out !  " 

I  could  not  tell  whether  or  not  Darrow  heard  me. 
He  left  soon  after.  The  mention  of  the  chest  had 
focussed  the  men's  interest. 


150  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Well,"  Pulz  began,  "  we've  been  here  on  this  spot 
o'  hell  for  a  long  time." 

"  A  year  and  five  months,"  reckoned  Thrackles. 

"  A  man  can  do  a  lot  in  that  time." 

"  If  he's  busy." 

"  They've  been  busy." 

"  Yes." 

"  Wonder  what  they've  done  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer  to  this,  and  the  sea  lawyer 
took  a  new  tack. 

"  I  suppose  we're  all  getting  double  wages." 

"  That's  so." 

"  And  that's  say  four  hunder'  for  us  and  Mr.  Eagen 
here.  I  suppose  the  Old  Man  don't  let  the  schooner 
go  for  nothing." 

"  Two  hundred  and  fifty  a  month,"  said  I,  and  then 
would  have  had  the  words  back. 

They  cried  out  in  prolonged  astonishment. 

"  Seventeen  months,"  pursued  the  logician  after  a 
few  moments.  He  scratched  with  a  stub  of  lead. 
"  That  makes  over  eleven  thousand  dollars  since 
we've  been  out.  How  much  do  you  suppose  his  outfit 
stands  him  ?  "  he  appealed  to  me. 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell  you,"  I  replied  shortly. 

"  Well,  it's  a  pile  of  money,  anyway." 

Nobody  said  anything  for  some  time. 

"  Wonder  what  they've  done  ?  "  Pulz  asked  again. 

"  Something  that  pays  big."  Thrackles  supplied  the 
desired  answer. 

"  Dat  chis' "  suggested  Perdosa. 

"  Voodoo "  muttered  the  Nigger. 

"  That's  to  scare  us  out,"  said  Handy  Solomon, 


THE    CORROSIVE  151 

with  vast  contempt.  "  That's  what  makes  me  sure  it 
is  the  chest." 

Pulz  muttered  some  of  the  jargon  of  alchemy. 

"That's  it,"  approved  Handy  Solomon.  "If  we 
could  get " 

"  We  wouldn't  know  how  to  use  it,"  interrupted 
Pulz. 

"  The  book "  said  Thrackles. 

"  Well,  the  book "  asserted  Pulz  pugnaciously. 

"  How  do  you  know  what  it  will  be  ?  It  may  be  the 
Philosopher's  Stone  and  it  may  be  one  of  these  other 
damn  things.  And  then  where'd  we  be?  " 

It  was  astounding  to  hear  this  nonsense  bandied 
about  so  seriously.  And  yet  they  more  than  half  be 
lieved,  for  they  were  deep-sea  men  of  the  old  school, 
and  this  was  in  print.  Thrackles  voiced  approximately 
the  general  attitude. 

"  Philosopher's  stone  or  not,  something's  up.  The 
old  boy  took  too  good  care  of  that  box,  and  he's  spend 
ing  too  much  money,  and  he's  got  hold  of  too  much 
hell  afloat  to  be  doing  it  for  his  health." 

"You  know  w'at  I  t'ink?"  smiled  Perdosa.  "He 
mak'  di'mon's.  He  say  dat." 

The  Nigger  had  entered  one  of  his  black,  brooding 
moods  from  which  these  men  expected  oracles. 

"  Get  him  ches',"  he  muttered.  "  I  see  him  full— 
full  of  di'mon's!" 

They  listened  to  him  with  vast  respect,  and  were 
visibly  impressed.  So  deep  was  the  sense  of  awe  that 
Handy  Solomon  unbent  enough  to  whisper  to  me : 

"  I  don't  take  any  stock  in  the  Nigger's  talk  ordi 
narily.  He's  a  hell  of  a  fool  nigger.  But  when  his  eye 


152  THE    MYSTERY 

looks  like  that,  then  you  want  to  listen  close.  He  sees 
things  then.  Lots  of  times  he's  seen  things.  Even  last 
year — the  Oyama — he  told  about  her  three  days 
ahead.  That's  why  we  were  so  ready  for  her,"  he 
chuckled. 

Nothing  more  developed  for  a  long  time  except  a 
savage  fight  between  Pulz  and  Perdosa.  I  hunted 
sheep,  fished,  wandered  about — always  with  an  escort 
tired  to  death  before  he  started.  The  thought  came  to 
me  to  kill  this  man  and  so  to  escape  and  make  cause 
with  the  scientists.  My  common  sense  forbade  me.  I 
begin  to  think  that  common  sense  is  a  very  foolish 
faculty  indeed. 

It  taught  me  the  obvious — that  all  this  idle,  vapour 
ing  talk  was  common  enough  among  men  of  this  class, 
so  common  that  it  would  hardly  justify  a  murder, 
would  hardly  explain  an  unwarranted  intrusion  on 
those  who  employed  me.  How  would  it  look  for  me 
to  go  to  them  with  these  words  in  my  mouth : 

"  The  captain  has  taken  to  drinking  to  dull  the 
monotony.  The  crew  think  you  are  an  alchemist  and 
are  making  diamonds.  Their  interest  in  this  fact 
seemed  to  me  excessive,  so  I  killed  one  of  them,  and 
here  I  am." 

"And  who  are  you?"  they  could  ask. 

"  I  am  a  reporter,"  would  be  my  only  truthful  reply. 

You  can  see  the  false  difficulties  of  my  position.  I 
do  not  defend  my  attitude.  Undoubtedly  a  born  leader 
of  men,  like  Captain  Selover  at  his  best,  would  have 
known  how  to  act  with  the  proper  decision  both  now 
and  in  the  inception  of  the  first  mutiny.  At  heart  I 
never  doubted  the  reality  of  the  crisis. 


THE    CORROSIVE  153 

Even  Percy  Darrow  saw  the  surliness  of  the  men's 
attitudes,  and  with  his  usual  good  sense  divined  the 
cause. 

"  You  chaps  are  getting  lazy,"  said  he,  "  why  don't 
you  do  something?  Where's  the  captain?" 

They  growled  something  about  there  being  nothing 
to  do,  and  explained  that  the  captain  preferred  to  live 
aboard. 

"  Don't  blame  him,"  said  Darrow,  "  but  he  might 
give  us  a  little  of  his  squeaky  company  occasionally. 
Boys,  I'll  tell  you  something  about  seals.  The  old  bull 
seals  have  long,  stiff  whiskers — a  foot  long.  Do  you 
know  there's  a  market  for  those  whiskers  ?  Well,  there 
is.  The  Chinese  mount  them  in  gold  and  use  them  for 
cleaners  for  their  long  pipes.  Each  whisker  is  worth 
from  six  bits  to  a  dollar  and  a  quarter.  Why  don't  you 
kill  a  few  bull  seal  for  the  *  trimmings  '  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  to  do  with  a  voodoo  ?  "  grunted  Handy 
Solomon. 

Darrow  laughed  amusedly.  "  No,  this  is  the  truth," 
he  assured.  "  I'll  tell  you  what :  I'll  give  you  boys 
six  bits  apiece  for  the  whisker  hairs,  and  four  bits  for 
the  galls.  I  expect  to  sell  them  at  a  profit." 

Next  morning  they  shook  off  their  lethargy  and 
went  seal-hunting. 

I  was  practically  commanded  to  attend.  This  atti 
tude  had  been  growing  of  late:  now  it  began  to  take 
a  definite  form. 

"  Mr.  Eagan,  don't  you  want  to  go  hunting  ?  "  or 
"  Mr.  Eagen,  I  guess  I'll  just  go  along  with  you  to 
stretch  my  legs,"  had  given  way  to,  "  We're  going 
fishing:  you'd  better  come  along." 


154  THE    MYSTERY 

I  had  known  for  a  long  time  that  I  had  lost  any 
real  control  of  them;  and  that  perhaps  humiliated  me 
a  little.  However,  my  inexperience  at  handling  such 
men,  and  the  anomalous  character  of  my  position  to 
some  extent  consoled  me.  In  the  filaments  brushed 
across  the  face  of  my  understanding  I  could  discover 
none  so  strong  as  to  support  an  overt  act  on  my  part. 
I  cannot  doubt,  that  had  the  affair  come  to  a  focus,  I 
should  have  warned  the  scientists  even  at  the  risk  of 
my  life.  In  fact,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  show  you, 
I  did  my  best.  But  at  the  moment,  in  all  policy  I  could 
see  my  way  to  little  besides  acquiescence. 

We  killed  seals  by  sequestrating  the  bulls,  surround 
ing  them,  and  clubbing  them  at  a  certain  point  of  the 
forehead.  It  was  surprising  to  see  how  hard  they 
fought,  and  how  quickly  they  succumbed  to  a  blow 
properly  directed.  Then  we  stripped  the  mask  with 
its  bristle  of  long  whiskers,  took  the  gall,  and  dragged 
the  carcass  into  the  surf  where  it  was  devoured  by  fish. 
At  first  the  men,  pleased  by  the  novelty,  stripped  the 
skins.  The  blubber,  often  two  or  three  inches  in  thick 
ness,  had  then  to  be  cut  away  from  the  pelt,  cube  by 
cube.  It  was  a  long,  an  oily,  and  odoriferous  job.  We 
stunk  mightily  of  seal  oil;  our  garments  were  shiny 
with  it,  the  very  pores  of  our  skins  seemed  to  ooze  it. 
And  even  after  the  pelt  was  fairly  well  cleared,  it  had 
still  to  be  tanned.  Percy  Darrow  suggested  the 
method,  but  the  process  was  long,  and  generally  un 
satisfactory.  With  the  acquisition  of  the  fifth  greasy, 
heavy,  and  ill-smelling  piece  of  fur  the  men's  interest 
in  peltries  waned.  They  confined  themselves  in  all 
strictness  to  the  "  trimmings." 


THE    CORROSIVE  155 

Percy  Darrow  showed  us  how  to  clean  the  whis 
kers.  The  process  was  evil.  The  masks  were,  quite 
simply,  to  be  advanced  so  far  in  the  way  of  putrefac 
tion  that  the  bristles  would  part  readily  from  their 
sockets.  The  first  batch  the  men  hung  out  on  a  line. 
A  few  moments  later  we  heard  a  mighty  squawking, 
and  rushed  out  to  find  the  island  ravens  making  off 
with  the  entire  catch.  Protection  of  netting  had  to  be 
rigged.  We  caught  seals  for  a  month  or  so.  There  was 
novelty  in  it,  and  it  satisfied  the  lust  for  killing.  As 
time  went  on,  the  bulls  grew  warier.  Then  we  made 
expeditions  to  outlying  rocks. 

Later  Handy  Solomon  approached  me  on  another 
diplomatic  errand. 

"  The  seals  is  getting  shy,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  They  are,"  said  I. 

"  The  only  way  to  do  is  to  shoot  them,"  said  he. 

"  Quite  like,"  I  agreed. 

A  pause  ensued. 

"  We've  got  no  cartridges,"  he  insinuated. 

"  And  you've  taken  charge  of  my  rifle,"  I  pointed 
out. 

"Oh,  not  a  bit,  sir,"  he  cried.  "  Thrackles,  he  just 
took  it  to  clean  it — you  can  have  it  whenever  you 
want  it,  sir." 

"  I  have  no  cartridges — as  you  have  observed," 
said  I. 

"  There's  plenty  aboard,"  he  suggested. 

"  And  they're  in  very  good  hands  there,"  said  I. 

He  ruminated  a  moment,  polishing  the  steel  of  his 
hook  against  the  other  arm  of  his  shirt.  Suddenly  he 
looked  up  at  me  with  a  humorous  twinkle. 


156  THE    MYSTERY 

"  You're  afraid  of  us !  "  he  accused. 

I  was  silent,  not  knowing  just  how  to  meet  so  direct 
an  attack. 

"  No  need  to  be,"  he  continued. 

I  said  nothing. 

He  looked  at  me  shrewdly;  then  stood  off  on  an 
other  tack. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  didn't  mean  just  that.  I  didn't  mean 
you  was  really  scared  of  us.  But  we're  gettin'  to  know 
each  other,  livin'  here  on  this  old  island,  brothers-like. 
There  ain't  no  officers  and  men  ashore — is  there,  now, 
sir?  When  we  gets  back  to  the  old  Laughing  Lass, 
then  we  drops  back  into  our  dooty  again  all  right  and 
proper.  You  can  kiss  the  Book  on  that.  Old  Scrubs, 
he  knows  that.  He  don't  want  no  shore  in  his.  He 
knows  enough  to  stay  aboard,  where  we'd  all 
rather  be." 

He  stopped  abruptly,  spat,  and  looked  at  me.  I  won 
dered  whither  this  devious  diplomacy  led  us. 

"  Still,  in  one  way,  an  officer's  an  officer,  and  a 
seaman's  a  seaman,  thinks  you,  and  discipline  must 
be  held  up  among  mates  ashore  or  afloat,  thinks  you. 
Quite  proper,  sir.  And  I  can  see  you  think  that  the 
arms  is  for  the  afterguard  except  in  case  of  trouble. 
Quite  proper.  You  can  do  the  shooting,  and  you  can 
keep  the  cartridges  always  by  you.  Just  for  disci 
pline,  sir." 

The  man's  boldness  in  so  fully  arming  me  was  aston 
ishing,  and  his  carelessness  in  allowing  me  aboard 
with  Captain  Selover  astonished  me  still  more.  Never 
theless  I  promised  to  go  for  the  desired  cartridges, 
fully  resolved  to  make  an  appeal. 


THE    CORROSIVE  157 

A  further  consideration  of  the  elements  of  the 
game  convinced  me,  however,  of  the  fellow's  shrewd 
ness.  It  was  no  more  dangerous  to  allow  me  a  rifle 
— under  direct  surveillance — for  the  purposes  of  hunt 
ing,  than  to  leave  me  my  sawed-off  revolver,  which  I 
still  retained.  The  arguments  he  had  used  against  my 
shooting  Perdosa  were  quite  as  cogent  now.  As 
to  the  second  point,  I,  finding  the  sun  unexpectedly 
strong,  returned  from  the  cove  for  my  hat,  and  so 
overheard  the  following  between  Thrackles  and  his 
leader : 

"  What's  to  keep  him  from  staying  aboard  ?  "  cried 
Thrackles,  protesting. 

"  Well,  he  might,"  acknowledged  Handy  Solomon, 
"  and  then  are  we  the  worse  off?  You  ain't  going  to 
make  a  boat  attack  against  Old  Scrubs,  are  you  ?  " 

Thrackles  hesitated. 

"  You  can  kiss  the  Book  on  it,  you  ain't,"  went  on 
Handy  Solomon  easily,  "  nor  me,  nor  Pulz,  nor  the 
Greaser,  nor  the  Nigger,  nor  none  of  us  all  together. 
We've  had  our  dose  of  that.  Well,  if  he  goes  aboard 
and  stays,  where  are  we  the  worse  off  ?  I  asks  you  that. 
But  he  won't.  This  is  w'ats  goin'  to  happen.  Says  he 
to  Old  Scrubs,  '  Sir,  the  men  needs  you  to  bash  in  their 
heads.'  *  Bash  'em  in  yourself,'  says  he,  '  that's  w'at 
you're  for.'  And  if  he  should  come  ashore,  w'at  could 
he  do?  I  asks  you  that.  We  ain't  disobeyed  no  orders 
dooly  delivered.  We're  ready  to  pull  halliards  at  the 
word.  No,  let  him  go  aboard,  and  if  he  peaches  to 
the  Old  Man,  why  all  the  better,  for  it  just  gets  the 
Old  Man  down  on  him." 

"  How  about  Old  Scrubs " 


158  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Don't  you  believe  none  in  luck  ?  "  asked  Handy 
Solomon. 

"  Aye." 

"  Well,  so  do  I,  with  w'at  that  law-crimp  used  to 
call  joodicious  assistance." 

I  rowed  out  to  the  Laughing  Lass  very  thought 
ful,  and  a  little  shaken  by  the  plausible  argument. 
Captain  Selover  was  lying  dead  drunk  across  the  cabin 
table.  I  did  my  best  to  waken  him,  but  failed,  took  a 
score  of  cartridges — no  more — and  departed  sadly. 
Nothing  could  be  gained  by  staying  aboard;  every 
chance  might  be  lost.  Besides,  an  opening  to  escape  in 
the  direction  of  the  laboratory  might  offer — I,  as  well 
as  they,  believed  in  luck  judiciously  assisted. 

In  the  ensuing  days  I  learned  much  of  the  habits  of 
seals.  We  sneaked  along  the  cliff  tops  until  over  the 
rookeries;  then  lay  flat  on  our  stomachs  and  peered 
cautiously  down  on  our  quarry.  The  seals  had  become 
very  wary.  A  slight  jar,  the  fall  of  a  pebble,  some 
times  even  sounds  unnoticed  by  ourselves,  were  enough 
to  send  them  into  the  water.  There  they  lined  up  just 
outside  the  surf,  their  sleek  heads  glossy  with  the  wet, 
their  calm,  soft  eyes  fixed  unblinkingly  on  us. 

It  was  useless  to  shoot  them  in  the  water :  they  sank 
at  once. 

When,  however,  we  succeeded  in  gaining  an  advan 
tageous  position,  it  was  necessary  to  shoot  with  ex 
treme  accuracy.  A  bullet  directly  through  the  back 
of  the  head  would  kill  cleanly.  A  hit  anywhere  else 
was  practically  useless,  for  even  in  death  the  animals 
seemed  to  retain  enough  blind  instinctive  vitality  to 
flop  them  into  the  water.  There  they  were  lost. 


THE    CORROSIVE  159 

Each  rookery  consisted  of  one  tremendous  bull  who 
officiated  apparently  as  the  standing  army;  a  number 
of  smaller  bulls,  his  direct  descendants;  the  cows,  and 
the  pups.  The  big  bull  held  his  position  by  force  of 
arms.  Occasionally  other,  unattached,  bulls  would 
come  swimming  by.  On  arriving  opposite  the  rookery 
the  stranger  would  utter  a  peculiar  challenge.  It  was 
never  refused  by  the  resident  champion,  who  promptly 
slid  into  the  sea^  and  engaged  battle.  If  he  conquered, 
the  stranger  went  on  his  way.  If,  however,  the 
stranger  won,  the  big  bull  immediately  struck  out  to 
sea,  abandoning  his  rookery,  while  the  new-comer 
swam  in  and  attempted  to  make  his  title  good  with  all 
the  younger  bulls.  I  have  seen  some  fierce  combats  out 
there  in  the  blue  water.  They  gashed  each  other 
deep 

You  can  see  by  this  how  our  hunting  was  never  at 
an  end.  On  Tuesday  we  would  kill  the  boss  bull  of  a 
certain  establishment.  By  Thursday,  at  latest,  another 
would  be  installed. 

I  learned  curious  facts  about  seals  in  those  days. 
The  hunting  did  not  appeal  to  me  particularly,  because 
it  seemed  to  me  useless  to  kill  so  large  an  animal  for 
so  small  a  spoil.  Still,  it  was  a  means  to  my  all-absorb 
ing  end,  and  I  confess  that  the  stalking,  the  lying  belly 
down  on  the  sun-warmed  grass  over  the  surge  and 
under  the  clear  sky,  was  extremely  pleasant.  While 
awaiting  the  return  of  the  big  bull  often  we  had  op 
portunity  to  watch  the  others  at  their  daily  affairs,  and 
even  the  unresponsive  Thrackles  was  struck  with  their 
almost  human  intelligence.  Did  you  know  that  seals 
kiss  each  other,  and  weep  tears  when  grieved  ? 


160  THE    MYSTERY 

The  men  often  discussed  among  themselves  the  nar 
row,  dry  cave.  There  the  animals  were  practically 
penned  in.  They  agreed  that  a  great  killing  could  be 
made  there,  but  the  impossibility  of  distinguishing  be 
tween  the  bulls  and  the  cows  deterred  them.  The  cave 
was  quite  dark. 

Immerced  in  our  own  affairs  thus,  the  days,  weeks, 
and  months  went  by.  Events  had  slipped  beyond  my 
control.  I  had  embarked  on  a  journalistic  enterprise, 
and  now  that  purpose  was  entirely  out  of  my  reach. 

Up  the  valley  Dr.  Schermerhorn  and  his  assistant 
were  engaged  in  some  experiment  of  whose  very 
nature  I  was  still  ignorant.  Also  I  was  likely  to  remain 
so.  The  precautions  taken  against  interference  by  the 
men  were  equally  effective  against  me.  As  if  that  were 
not  enough,  any  move  of  investigation  on  my  part 
would  be  radically  misinterpreted,  and  to  my  own 
danger,  by  the  men.  I  might  as  well  have  been  in 
London. 

However,  as  to  my  first  purpose  in  this  adventure 
I  had  evolved  another  plan,  and  therefore  was  content. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  on  the  voyage  home,  if 
nothing  prevented,  I  would  tell  my  story  to  Percy 
Darrow,  and  throw  myself  on  his  mercy.  The  results 
of  the  experiment  would  probably  by  then  be  ready  for 
the  public,  and  there  was  no  reason,  as  far  as  I  could 
see,  why  I  should  not  get  the  "  scoop  "  at  first  hand. 

Certainly  my  sincerity  would  be  without  question; 
and  I  hoped  that  two  years  or  more  of  service  such 
as  I  had  rendered  would  tickle  Dr.  Schermerhorn's 
sense  of  his  own  importance.  So  adequate  did  this 
plan  seem,  that  I  gave  up  thought  on  the  subject. 


THE    CORROSIVE  161 

My  whole  life  now  lay  on  the  shores.  I  was  not 
again  permitted  to  board  the  Laughing  Lass.  Captain 
Selover  I  saw  twice  at  a  distance.  Both  times  he 
seemed  to  be  rather  uncertain.  The  men  did  not  re 
mark  it.  The  days  went  by.  I  relapsed  into  that  state 
so  well  known  to  you  all,  when  one  seems  caught  in 
the  meshes  of  a  dream  existence  which  has  had  no 
beginning  and  which  is  destined  never  to  have  an  end. 

We  were  to  hunt  seals,  and  fish,  and  pry  bivalves 
from  the  rocks  at  low  tide,  and  build  fires,  and  talk, 
and  alternate  between  suspicion  and  security,  between 
the  danger  of  sedition  and  the  insanity  of  men  without 
defined  purpose,  world  without  end  forever. 


XII 
"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE 

THE  inevitable  happened.  One  noon  Pulz  looked  up 
from  his  labour  of  pulling  the  whiskers  from  the  evil- 
smelling  masks. 

"  How  many  of  these  damn  things  we  got  ?  "  he 
inquired. 

"  About  three  hunder'  and  fifty,"  Thrackles  replied. 

"  Well,  we've  got  enough  for  me.  I'm  sick  of  this 
job.  It  stinks." 

They  looked  at  each  other.  I  could  see  the  disgust 
rising  in  their  eyes,  the  reek  of  rotten  blubber  expand 
ing  their  nostrils.  With  one  accord  they  cast  aside 
the  masks. 

"  It  ain't  such  a  hell  of  a  fortune,"  growled  Pulz, 
his  evil  little  white  face  thrust  forward.  "  There's 
other  things  worth  all  the  seal  trimmin's  of  the 
islands." 

"  Diamon's,"  gloomed  the  Nigger. 

"  You've  hit  it^  Doctor,"  cut  in  Solomon. 

There  we  were  again,  back  to  the  old  difficulty,  only 
worse.  Idleness  descended  on  us  again.  We  grew 
touchy  on  little  things,  as  a  misplaced  plate,  a  shortage 
of  firewood,  too  deep  a  draught  at  the  nearly  empty 
bucket.  The  noise  of  bickering  became  as  constant  as 
the  noise  of  the  surf.  If  we  valued  peace,  we  kept  our 
mouths  shut.  The  way  a  man  spat,  or  ate,  or  slept, 
or  even  breathed  became  a  cause  of  irritation  to  every 

162 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    163 

other  member  of  the  company.  We  stood  the  outrage 
as  long  as  we  could;  then  we  objected  in  a  wild  and 
ridiculous  explosion  which  communicated  its  heat  to 
the  object  of  our  wrath.  Then  there  was  a  fight.  It 
needed  only  liquor  to  complete  the  deplorable  state  of 
affairs. 

Gradually  the  smaller  things  came  to  worry  us  more 
and  more.  A  certain  harmless  singer  of  the  cricket 
or  perhaps  of  the  tree-toad  variety  used  to  chirp  his 
innocent  note  a  short  distance  from  our  cabin.  For 
all  I  know  he  had  done  so  from  the  moment  of  our 
installation,  but  I  had  never  noticed  him  before.  Now 
I  caught  myself  listening  for  his  irregular  recurrence 
with  every  nerve  on  the  quiver.  If  he  delayed  by  ever 
so  little,  it  was  an  agony ;  yet  when  he  did  pipe  up,  his 
feeble  strain  struck  to  my  heart  cold  and  paralysing 
like  a  dagger.  And  with  every  advancing  minute  of 
the  night  I  became  broader  awake,  more  tense,  fairly 
sweating  with  nervousness.  One  night — good  God, 
was  it  only  last  week?  ...  it  seems  ages  ago, 
another  existence  ...  a  state  cut  off  from  this 
by  the  wonder  of  a  transmigration,  at  least.  .  .  . 
Last  week! 

I  did  not  sleep  at  all.  The  moon  had  risen,  had 
mounted  the  heavens,  and  now  was  sailing  overhead. 
By  the  fretwork  of  its  radiance  through  the  chinks  of 
our  rudely-built  cabin  I  had  marked  off  the  hours.  A 
thunderstorm  rumbled  and  flashed,  hull  down  over  the 
horizon.  It  was  many  miles  distant,  and  yet  I  do  not 
doubt  that  its  electrical  influence  had  dried  the  mois 
ture  of  our  equanimity,  leaving  us  rattling  husks  for 
the  winds  of  destiny  to  play  upon.  Certainly  I  can 


1 64  THE    MYSTERY 

remember  no  other  time,  in  a  rather  wide  experience, 
when  I  have  felt  myself  more  on  edge,  more  choked 
with  the  restless,  purposeless  nervous  energy  that 
leaves  a  man's  tongue  parched  and  his  eyes  staring. 
And  still  that  infernal  cricket,  or  whatever  it  was, 
chirped. 

I  had  thought  myself  alone  in  my  vigil,  but  when 
finally  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  kicked  aside  my 
covering  with  an  oath  of  protest,  I  was  surprised  to 
hear  it  echoed  from  all  about  me. 

"  Damn  that  cricket !  "  I  cried. 

And  the  dead  shadows  stirred  from  the  bunks,  and 
the  hollow-eyed  victims  of  insomnia  crept  out  to  curse 
their  tormentor.  We  organised  an  expedition  to  hunt 
him  down.  It  was  ridiculous  enough,  six  strong  men 
prowling  for  the  life  of  one  poor  little  insect.  We  did 
not  find  him,  however,  though  we  succeeded  in  silenc 
ing  him.  But  no  sooner  were  we  back  in  our  bunks 
than  he  began  it  again,  and  such  was  the  turmoil  of 
our  nerves  that  day  found  us  sitting  wan  about  a  fire, 
hugging  our  knees. 

We  were  so  genuinely  emptied,  not  so  much  by  the 
cricket  as  by  the  two  years  of  fermentation,  that  not 
one  of  us  stirred  toward  breakfast,  in  fact  not  one  of 
us  moved  from  the  listless  attitude  in  which  day  found 
him,  until  after  nine  o'clock.  Then  we  pulled  ourselves 
together  and  cooked  coffee  and  salt  horse.  As  a  sig 
nificant  fact,  the  Nigger  left  the  dishes  unwashed,  and 
no  one  cared. 

Handy  Solomon  finally  shook  himself  and  arose. 

"  I'm  sick  of  this,"  said  he,  "  I'm  goin'  seal-hunt 
ing." 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    165 

They  arose  without  a  word.  They  were  sick  of  it, 
too,  sick  to  death.  We  were  a  silent,  gloomy  crew 
indeed  as  we  thrust  the  surf  boat  afloat,  clambered 
in,  and  shipped  the  oars.  No  one  spoke  a  word;  no 
one  had  a  comment  to  make,  even  when  we  saw  the 
rookery  slide  into  the  water  while  we  were  still  fifty 
yards  from  the  beach.  We  pulled  back  slowly  along 
the  coast.  Beyond  the  rock  we  made  out  the  entrance 
to  the  dry  cave. 

"  There's  seal  in  there,"  cried  Handy  Solomon, 
"lots  of  'em!" 

He  thrust  the  rudder  over,  and  we  headed  for  the 
cave.  No  one  expressed  an  opinion. 

As  it  was  again  high  tide,  we  rowed  in  to  the  steep 
shore  inside  the  cave's  mouth  and  beached  the  boat. 
The  place  was  full  of  seals;  we  could  hear  them  bel 
lowing. 

"  Two  of  you  stand  here,"  shouted  Handy  Solomon, 
"  and  take  them  as  they  go  out.  We'll  go  in  and  scare 
'em  down  to  you." 

"  They'll  run  over  us,"  screamed  Pulz. 

"  No,  they  won't.  You  can  dodge  up  the  sides  when 
they  go  by." 

This  was  indeed  well  possible,  so  we  gripped  our 
clubs  and  ventured  into  the  darkness. 

We  advanced  four  abreast,  for  the  cave  was  wide 
enough  for  that.  As  we  penetrated,  the  bellowing  and 
barking  became  more  deafening.  It  was  impossible  to 
see  anything,  although  we  felt  an  indistinguish 
able  tumbling  mass  receding  before  our  footsteps. 
Thrackles  swore  violently  as  he  stumbled  over  a  lag 
gard.  With  uncanny  abruptness  the  black  wall  of 


i66  THE    MYSTERY 

darkness  in  front  of  us  was  alive  with  fiery  eyeballs. 
The  seals  had  reached  the  end  of  the  cave  and  had 
turned  toward  us.  We,  too,  stopped,  a  little  uncertain 
as  to  how  to  proceed. 

The  first  plan  had  been  to  get  behind  the  band  and 
to  drive  it  slowly  toward  the  entrance  to  the  cave. 
This  was  now  seen  to  be  impossible.  The  cavern  was 
too  narrow;  its  sides  at  this  point  too  steep,  and  the 
animals  too  thickly  congested.  Our  eyes,  becoming 
accustomed  to  the  twilight,  now  began  to  make  out 
dimly  the  individual  bodies  of  the  seals  and  the  gen 
eral  configuration  of  the  rocks.  One  big  boulder  lay 
directly  in  our  path,  like  an  island  in  the  shale  of  the 
cave's  floor.  Perdosa  stepped  to  the  top  of  it  for  a 
better  look.  The  men  attempted  to  communicate  their 
ideas  of  what  was  to  be  done,  but  could  not  make  them 
selves  heard  above  the  uproar.  I  could  see  their  faces 
contorting  with  the  fury  of  being  baffled.  A  big  bull 
made  a  dash  to  get  by;  all  the  herd  flippered  after 
him.  If  he  had  won  past  they  would  have  followed  as 
obstinately  as  sheep,  and  nothing  could  have  stopped 
them,  but  the  big  bull  went  down  beneath  the  clubs. 
Thrackles  hit  the  animal  two  vindictive  blows  after 
it  had  succumbed. 

This  settled  the  revolt,  and  we  stood  as  before. 
Pulz  and  Handy  Solomon  tried  to  converse  by  signs, 
but  evidently  failed,  for  their  faces  showed  angry  in 
the  twilight.  Perdosa,  on  his  rock,  rolled  and  lit  a 
cigarette.  Thrackles  paced  to  and  fro,  and  the  Nigger 
leaned  on  his  club,  farther  down  the  cave.  They  had 
been  left  at  the  entrance,  but  now  in  lack  of  results 
had  joined  their  companions. 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    167 

Now  Thrackles  approached  and  screamed  himself 
black  trying  to  impart  some  plan.  He  failed;  but 
stooped  and  picked  up  a  stone  and  threw  it  into  the 
mass  of  seals.  The  others  understood.  A  shower  of 
stones  followed.  The  animals  milled  like  cattle,  bel 
lowed  the  louder,  but  would  not  face  their  tormentors. 
Finally  an  old  cow  flopped  by  in  a  panic.  I  thought 
they  would  have  let  her  go,  but  she  died  a  little  be 
yond  the  bull.  No  more  followed,  although  the  men 
threw  stones  as  fast  and  hard  as  they  were  able.  Their 
faces  were  livid  with  anger,  like  that  of  an  evil-tem 
pered  man  with  an  obstinate  horse. 

Suddenly  Handy  Solomon  put  his  head  down,  and 
with  a  roar  distinctly  audible  even  above  the  din  that 
filled  the  cave,  charged  directly  into  the  herd.  I  saw 
the  beasts  cringe  before  him;  I  saw  his  club  rising 
and  falling  indiscriminately;  and  then  the  whole  back 
of  the  cave  seemed  to  rise  and  come  at  us. 

This  was  no  chance  of  sport  now,  but  a  struggle  for 
very  life.  We  realised  that  once  down  there  would  be 
no  hope,  for  while  the  seals  were  more  anxious  to 
escape  than  to  fight,  we  knew  that  their  jaws  were 
powerful.  There  was  no  time  to  pick  and  choose.  We 
hit  out  with  all  the  strength  and  quickness  we  pos 
sessed.  It  was  like  a  bad  dream,  like  struggling  with 
an  elusive  hydra-headed  monster,  knee  high,  invul 
nerable.  We  hit,  but  without  apparent  effect.  New 
heads  rose,  the  press  behind  increased.  We  gave 
ground.  We  staggered,  struggling  desperately  to  keep 
our  feet. 

How  long  this  lasted  I  cannot  tell.  It  seemed  hours. 
I  know  my  arms  became  leaden  from  swinging  my 


1 68  THE    MYSTERY 

club;  my  eyes  were  full  of  sweat;  my  breath  gasped. 
A  sharp  pain  in  my  knee  nearly  doubled  me  to  the 
ground  and  yet  I  remember  clamping  to  the  thought 
that  I  must  keep  my  feet,  keep  my  feet  at  any  cost. 
Then  all  at  once  I  recalled  the  fact  that  I  was  armed.  I 
jerked  out  the  short-barrelled  Colt's  45  and  turned  it 
loose  in  their  faces. 

Whether  the  flash  and  detonation  frightened  them; 
whether  Perdosa,  still  clinging  to  his  rock,  managed 
to  turn  their  attention  by  his  flanking  efforts,  or 
whether,  quite  simply,  the  wall  of  dead  finally  turned 
them  back,  I  do  not  know,  but  with  one  accord  they 
gave  over  the  attempt. 

I  looked  at  once  for  Handy  Solomon,  and  was  sur 
prised  to  see  him  still  alive,  standing  upright  on  a 
ledge  the  other  side  of  the  herd.  His  clothing  was 
literally  torn  to  shreds,  and  he  was  covered  with  blood. 
But  in  this  plight  he  was  not  alone,  for  when  I  turned 
toward  my  companions  they,  too,  were  tattered,  torn, 
and  gory.  We  were  a  dreadful  crew,  standing  there 
in  the  half-light,  our  chests  heaving,  our  rags  drip 
ping  red. 

For  perhaps  ten  seconds  no  one  moved.  Then  with 
a  yell  of  demoniac  rage  my  companions  clambered 
over  the  rampart  of  dead  seals  and  attacked  the  herd. 

The  seals  were  now  cowed  and  defenceless.  It  was 
a  slaughter,  and  the  most  debauching  and  brutal  I  have 
ever  known.  I  had  hit  out  with  the  rest  when  it  had 
been  a  question  of  defence,  but  from  this  I  turned 
aside  in  a  sick  loathing.  The  men  seemed  possessed  of 
devils,  and  of  their  unnatural  energy.  Perdosa  cast 
aside  the  club  and  took  to  his  natural  weapon,  the  knife. 


I  jerked  out  the  short-barrelled  Colt  and  turned  it  loose 
in  their  faces  ' ' 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    169 

I  can  see  him  yet  rolling  over  and  over  embracing  a  big 
cow,  his  head  jammed  in  an  ecstasy  of  ferocity  be 
tween  the  animal's  front  flippers,  his  legs  clasped  to 
hold  her  body,  only  his  right  arm  rising  and  falling 
as  he  plunged  his  knife  again  and  again.  She  struggled, 
turning  him  over  and  under,  wept  great  tears,  and 
fairly  whined  with  terror  and  pain.  Finally  she  was 
still,  and  Perdosa  staggered  to  his  feet,  only  to  stare 
about  him  drunkenly  for  a  moment  before  throwing 
himself  with  a  screech  on  another  victim. 

The  Nigger  alone  did  not  jump  into  the  turmoil. 
He  stood  just  down  the  cave,  his  club  ready.  Occa 
sionally  a  disorganised  rush  to  escape  would  be  made. 
The  Nigger's  lips  snarled,  and  with  a  truly  mad  en 
joyment  he  beat  the  poor  animals  back. 

I  pressed  against  the  wall  horrified,  fascinated,  un 
able  either  to  interfere  or  to  leave.  A  close,  sticky 
smell  took  possession  of  the  air.  After  a  little  a  tiny 
stream,  growing  each  moment,  began  to  flow  past  my 
feet.  It  sought  its  channel  daintily,  as  streamlets  do, 
feeling  among  the  stones  in  eddies,  quiet  pools,  minia 
ture  falls,  and  rapids.  For  the  moment  I  did  not  realise 
what  it  could  be.  Then  the  light  caught  it  down  where 
the  Nigger  waited,  and  I  saw  it  was  red. 

At  first  the  racket  of  the  seals  was  overpowering. 
Now,  gradually,  it  was  losing  volume.  I  began  to  hear 
the  blasphemies,  ferocious  cries,  screams  of  anger 
hurled  against  the  cave  walls  by  the  men.  The  thick, 
sticky  smell  grew  stronger;  the  light  seemed  to  grow 
dimmer,  as  though  it  could  not  burn  in  that  fetid  air. 
A  seal  came  and  looked  up  at  me,  big  tears  rolling  from 
her  eyes ;  then  she  flippered  aimlessly  away,  out  of  her 


1 70  THE    MYSTERY 

poor  wits  with  terror.  The  sight  finished  me.  I  stag 
gered  down  the  length  of  the  black  tunnel  to  the  boat. 

After  a  long  interval  a  little  three  months'  pup  wad 
dled  down  to  the  water's  edge,  caught  sight  of  me, 
and  with  a  squeal  of  fright  dived  far.  Poor  little  devil ! 
I  would  not  have  hurt  him  for  worlds.  As  far  as  I 
know  this  was  the  only  survivor  of  all  that  herd. 

The  men  soon  appeared,  one  by  one,  tired,  sleepy- 
eyed,  glutted,  walking  in  a  cat-like  trance  of  satiety. 
They  were  blood  and  tatters  from  head  to  foot,  and 
from  drying  red  masks  peered  their  bloodshot  eyes. 
Not  a  word  said  they,  but  tumbled  into  the  boat, 
pushed  off,  and  in  a  moment  we  were  floating  in  the 
full  sunshine  again. 

We  rowed  home  in  an  abstraction.  For  the  moment 
Berserker  rage  had  burned  itself  out.  Handy  Solomon 
continually  wetted  his  lips,  like  an  animal  licking  its 
chops.  Thrackles  stared  into  space  through  eyes 
drugged  with  killing.  No  one  spoke. 

We  landed  in  the  cove,  and  were  surprised  to  find  it 
in  shadow.  The  afternoon  was  far  advanced.  Over 
the  hill  we  dragged  ourselves,  and  down  to  the  spring. 
There  the  men  threw  themselves  flat  and  drank  in 
great  gulps  until  they  could  drink  no  more.  We  built 
a  fire,  but  the  Nigger  refused  to  cook. 

"  Someone  else  turn,"  he  growled,  "  I  cook  aboard 
ship/' 

Perdosa,  who  had  hewed  the  fuel,  at  once  became 
angry. 

"  I  cut  heem  de  wood !  "  he  said,  "  I  do  my  share  ; 
eef  I  cut  heem  de  wood  you  mus'  cook  heem  de  grub !  " 

But  the  Nigger  shook  his  head,  and  Perdosa  went 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    171 

into  an  ecstasy  of  rage.  He  kicked  the  fire  to  pieces; 
he  scattered  the  unburned  wood  up  and  down  the 
beach ;  he  even  threw  some  of  it  into  the  sea. 

"  Eef  you  no  cook  heem  de  grub,  you  no  hab  my 
wood !  "  he  shrieked,  with  enough  oaths  to  sink  his 
soul. 

Finally  Pulz  interfered. 

"  Here  you  damn  foreigners,"  said  he,  "  quit  it ! 
Let  up,  I  say!  We  got  to  eat.  You  let  that  wood 
alone,  or  you'll  pick  it  up  again !  " 

Perdosa  sprang  at  him  with  a  screech.  Pulz  was 
small  but  nimble,  and  understood  rough  and  tumble 
fighting.  He  met  Perdosa's  rush  with  two  swift  blows 
— a  short  arm  jab  and  an  upper-cut.  Then  they 
clinched,  and  in  a  moment  were  rolling  over  and  over 
just  beyond  the  wash  of  the  surf. 

The  row  waked  the  Nigger  from  his  sullen  ab 
straction.  He  seemed  to  come  to  himself  with  a  start ; 
his  eye  fell  surprisedly  on  the  combatants,  then  lit  up 
with  an  unholy  joy.  He  drew  his  knife  and  crept  down 
on  the  fighters.  It  was  too  good  an  opportunity  to  pay 
off  the  Mexican. 

But  Thrackles  interfered  sharply. 

"Come  off!"  he  commanded.  "None  o'  that!" 

"  Go  to  hell !  "  growled  the  Nigger. 

A  great  rage  fell  on  them  all,  blind  and  terrible,  like 
that  leading  to  the  slaughter  of  the  seals.  They  fought 
indiscriminately,  hitting  at  each  other  with  fists  and 
knives.  It  was  difficult  to  tell  who  was  against  whom. 
The  sound  of  heavy  breathing,  dull  blows,  the  tear  of 
cloth,  and  grunts  of  punishment  received ;  the  swirl  of 
the  sand,  the  heave  of  struggling  bodies,  all  riveted  my 


172  THE    MYSTERY 

attention,  so  that  I  did  not  see  Captain  Ezra  Selover 
until  he  stood  almost  at  my  elbow. 

"  Stop ! "  he  shrieked  in  his  high,  falsetto  voice. 

And  would  you  believe  it,  even  through  the  blood 
haze  of  their  combat  the  men  heard  him,  and  heeded. 
They  drew  reluctantly  apart,  got  to  their  feet,  stood 
looking  at  him  through  reeking  brows  half  submissive 
and  half  defiant.  The  bull-headed  Thrackles  even  took 
a  half  step  forward,  but  froze  in  his  tracks  when  Old 
Scrubs  looked  at  him. 

"  I  hire  you  men  to  fight  when  I  tell  you  to,  and 
only  then,"  said  the  captain  sternly.  "  What  does  this 
mean?" 

He  menaced  them  one  after  another  with  his  eyes, 
and  one  after  another  they  quailed.  All  their  plottings, 
their  threats,  their  dangerousness  dissipated  like  mist 
before  the  command  of  this  one  resolute  man.  These 
pirates  who  had  seemed  so  dreadful  to  me,  now  were 
nothing  more  than  cringing  schoolboys  before  their 
master. 

And  then  suddenly  to  my  horror  I,  watching  closely, 
saw  the  captain's  eye  turn  blank.  I  am  sure  the  men 
must  have  felt  the  change,  though  certainly  they  were 
too  far  away  to  see  it,  for  they  shifted  by  ever  so  little 
from  their  first  frozen  attitude.  The  captain's  hand 
sought  his  pocket,  and  they  froze  again,  but  instead 
of  the  expected  revolver,  he  produced  a  half-full 
brandy  bottle. 

The  change  in  his  eyes  had  crept  into  his  features. 
They  had  turned  foolishly  amiable,  vacant,  confiding. 

"  'llo  boys,"  said  he  appealingly,  "  you  good  fel- 
lowsh,  ain't  you?  Have  a  drink.  'S  good  stuff.  Good 


You  good  fellowsh,  ain't  you  ? 


"OLD    SCRUBS"    COMES    ASHORE    173 

ol'  bottl',"  he  lurched,  caught  himself,  and  advanced 
toward  them,  still  with  the  empty  smile. 

They  stared  at  him  for  ten  seconds,  quite  at  a  loss. 
Then: 

"  By  God,  he's  drunk ! "  Handy  Solomon  breathed, 
scarcely  louder  than  a  whisper. 

There  was  no  other  signal  given.  They  sprang  as 
with  a  single  impulse.  One  instant  I  saw  clear  against 
the  waning  daylight  the  bulky,  foolish-swaying  form 
of  Captain  Selover:  the  next  it  had  disappeared,  car 
ried  down  and  obliterated  by  the  rush  of  attacking 
bodies.  Knives  gleamed  ruddy  in  the  sunset.  There 
was  no  struggle.  I  heard  a  deep  groan.  Then  the  mur 
derers  rose  slowly  to  their  feet. 


XIII 
I    MAKE    MY   ESCAPE 

I  HAD  plenty  of  time  to  run  away.  I  do  not  know  why 
I  did  not  do  so;  but  the  fact  stands  that  I  remained 
where  I  was  until  they  had  finished  Captain  Selover. 
Then  I  took  to  my  heels,  but  was  soon  cornered.  I 
drew  my  revolver,  remembered  that  I  had  emptied  it 
in  the  seal  cave — and  had  time  for  no  more  coherent 
mental  processes.  A  smothering  weight  flung  itself  on 
me,  against  which  I  struggled  as  hard  as  I  could, 
shrinking  in  anticipation  from  the  thirsty  plunge  of 
the  knives.  However,  though  the  weight  increased 
until  further  struggle  was  impossible,  I  was  not 
harmed,  and  in  a  few  moments  found  myself,  wrists 
and  ankles  tied,  beside  a  roaring  fire.  While  I  col 
lected  myself  I  heard  the  grate  of  a  boat  being  shoved 
off  from  the  cove,  and  a  few  moments  later  made  out 
lights  aboard  the  Laughing  Lass. 

The  loo'ting  party  returned  very  shortly.  Their 
plundering  had  gone  only  as  far  as  liquor  and  arms. 
Thrackles  let  down  from  the  cliff  top  a  keg  at  the  end 
of  a  line.  Perdosa  and  the  Nigger  each  carried  an 
armful  of  the  30-40  rifles.  The  keg  was  rolled  to  the 
fire  and  broached. 

The  men  got  drunk,  wildly  drunk,  but  not  helplessly 
so.  A  flame  communicated  itself  to  them  through  the 
liquor.  The  ordinary  characteristics  of  their  compo- 

i74 


I    MAKE    MY    ESCAPE  175 

sition  sprung  into  sharper  relief.  The  Nigger  became 
more  sullen;  Perdosa  more  snake-like;  Pulz  more  vi 
ciously  evil ;  Thrackles  more  brutal ;  while  Handy  Sol 
omon  staggering  from  his  seat  to  the  open  keg  and 
back  again,  roaring  fragments  of  a  chanty,  his  red 
headgear  contrasting  with  his  smoky  black  hair  and 
his  swarthy  hook-nosed  countenance — he  needed  no 
further  touch. 

Their  evil  passions  were  all  awake,  and  the  plan,  so 
long  indefinite,  developed  like  a  photographer's  plate. 
"  That's  one,"  said  Thrackles.  "  One  gone  to  hell." 
"  And  now  the  diamonds,"  muttered  Pulz. 

"  There's  a  ship  upon  the  windward,  a  wreck  upon  the 

lee, 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e" 

roared  Handy  Solomon.  "  Damn  it  all,  boys,  it's  the 
best  night's  work  we  ever  did.  The  stuff's  ours.  Then 
it's  me  for  a  big  stone  house  in  Frisco  O !  " 

"  Frisco,  hell,"  sneered  Pulz,  "  that's  all  you  know. 
You  ought  to  travel.  Paris  for  me  and  a  little  gal  to 
learn  the  language  from." 

"  I  get  heem  a  fine  caballo,  an'  fine  saddle,  an'  fine 
clo's,"  breathed  Perdosa  sentimentally.  "  I  ride,  and 
the  silver  jingle,  and  the  senorita  look " 

Thrackles  was  for  a  ship  and  the  China  trade. 

"What  you  want,  Doctor?"  they  demanded  of  the 
silent  Nigger. 

But  the  Nigger  only  rolled  his  eyes  and  shook  his 
head.  By  and  by  he  arose  and  disappeared  in  the 
dusk  and  was  no  more  seen. 


1 76  THE    MYSTERY 

"Dam'  fool,"  muttered  Handy  Solomon.  "Well, 
here's  to  crime !  " 

He  drank  a  deep  cup  of  the  raw  rum,  and  staggered 
back  to  his  seat  on  the  sands. 

" '  I  am  not  a  man-o'-war,  nor  a  privateer/  said  he. 

Blow  high,  blow  low!    What  care  we! 
'  But  I  am  a  jolly  pirate  and  I'm  sailing  for  my  fee,' 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e." 

he  sang.  "  We'll  land  in  Valparaiso  and  we'll  go  every 
man  his  way ;  and  we'll  sink  the  old  Laughing  Lass  so 
deep  the  mermaids  can't  find  her." 

Thrackles  piled  on  more  wood  and  the  fire  leaped 
high. 

"  Let's  get  after  'em,"  said  he. 

"  To-morrow's  jes'  's  good,"  muttered  Pulz.  "  Les' 
hav'  'nother  drink." 

"  We'll  stay  here  'n  see  if  our  ol'  frien'  Percy  don' 
show  up,"  said  Handy  Solomon.  He  threw  back  his 
head  and  roared  forth  a  volume  of  sound  toward  the 
dim  stars. 

"  Broadside  to  broadside  the  gallant  ships  did  lay, 

Blow  high,  blow  low!     W hat  care  we? 
'Til  the  jolly  man-o'-war  shot  the  pirate's  mast  away, 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e," 

I  saw  near  me  a  live  coal  dislodged  from  the  fire 
when  Thrackles  had  thrown  on  the  armful  of  wood. 
An  idea  came  to  me.  I  hitched  myself  to  the  spark, 
and  laid  across  it  the  rope  with  which  my  wrists  were 
tied.  This,  behind  my  back,  was  not  easy  to  accom 
plish,  and  twice  I  burned  my  wrists  before  I  succeeded. 


I    MAKE    MY    ESCAPE  177 

Fortunately  I  was  at  the  edge  of  illumination,  and  be 
hind  the  group.  I  turned  over  on  my  side  so  that  my 
back  was  toward  the  fire.  Then  rapidly  I  cast  loose 
my  ankle  lashings.  Thus  I  was  free,  and  selecting  a 
moment  when  universal  attention  was  turned  toward 
the  rum  barrel,  I  rolled  over  a  sand  dune,  got  to  my 
hands  and  knees,  and  crept  away. 

Through  the  coarse  grass  I  crept  thus,  to  the  very 
entrance  of  the  arroyo,  then  rose  to  my  feet.  In  the 
middle  distance  the  fire  leaped  red.  Its  glow  fell  in 
termittently  on  the  surges  rolling  in.  The  men  stag 
gered  or  lay  prone,  either  as  gigantic  silhouettes  or  as 
tatterdemalions  painted  by  the  light.  The  keg  stood 
solid  and  substantial,  the  hub  about  which  reeled  the 
orgy.  At  the  edge  of  the  wash  I  could  make  out  some 
thing  prone,  dim,  limp,  thrown  constantly  in  new 
positions  of  weariness  as  the  water  ebbed  and  flowed 
beneath  it,  now  an  arm  thrown  out,  now  cast  back, 
as  though  Old  Scrubs  slept  feverishly.  The  drunkards 
were  getting  noisy.  Handy  Solomon  still  reeled  off 
the  verses  of  his  song.  The  others  joined  in,  fright 
fully  off  the  key;  or  punctuated  the  performance  by 
wild  staccato  yells. 

"  Their  coffin  was  their  ship  and  their  grave  it  was  the 

sea, 

Blow  high,  blow  low!    What  care  we? 
And  the  quarter  that  we  gave  them  was  to  sink  them 

in  the  sea, 
Down  on  the  coast  of  the  high  Barbare-e-e," 

bellowed  Handy  Solomon. 

I  turned  and  plunged  into  the  cool  darkness  of  the 
canon. 


XIV 

AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   NIGHT 

TEN  seconds  after  entering  the  arroyo  I  was  stum 
bling  along  in  an  absolute  blackness.  It  almost  seemed 
to  me  that  I  could  reach  out  my  hands  and  touch  it, 
as  one  would  touch  a  wall.  Or  perhaps  not  exactly 
that,  for  a  wall  is  hard,  and  this  darkness  was  soft  and 
yielding,  in  the  manner  of  enveloping  hangings.  Di 
rectly  above  me  was  a  narrow,  jagged,  and  irregular 
strip  of  sky  with  stars.  I  splashed  in  the  brook,  finding 
its  waters  strangely  warm,  rustled  through  the  grasses, 
my  head  back,  chin  out,  hands  extended  as  one  makes 
his  way  through  a  house  at  night.  There  were  no 
sounds  except  the  tinkle  of  the  sulphurous  stream: 
successive  bends  in  the  canon  wall  had  shut  off  even 
the  faintest  echoes  of  the  bacchanalia  on  the  beach. 

The  way  seemed  much  longer  than  by  daylight.  Al 
ready  in  my  calculation  I  had  traversed  many  times 
the  distance,  when,  with  a  jump  at  the  heart,  I  made 
out  a  glow  ahead,  and  in  front  of  it  the  upright  logs 
of  the  stockade. 

To  my  surprise  the  gate  was  open.  I  ascended  the 
gentle  slope  to  the  valley's  level — and  stumbled  over  a 
man  lying  prostrate,  shivering  violently,  and  moaning. 

I  bent  over  to  discover  whom  it  might  be.  As  I 
did  so  a  brilliant  light  seemed  to  fill  the  valley,  throw 
ing  an  illumination  on  the  man  at  my  feet.  I 

178 


AN    ADVENTURE    IN    THE    NIGHT    179 

saw  it  was  the  Nigger,  and  perceived  at  the  same 
instant  that  he  was  almost  beside  himself  with  terror. 
His  eyes  rolled,  his  teeth  chattered,  his  frame  con 
tracted  in  a  strong  convulsion,  and  the  black  of  his 
complexion  had  faded  to  a  washed-out  dirty  grey,  re 
volting  to  contemplate.  He  felt  my  touch  and  sprang 
to  his  feet,  clutching  me  by  the  shoulder  as  a  man 
clutching  rescue. 

"My  Gawd!"  he  shivered.  "Look!  Dar  it  is 
again ! " 

He  fell  to  pattering  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  me — 
charms,  spells,  undoubtedly,  to  exorcise  the  devils  that 
had  hold  of  him.  I  followed  the  direction  of  his  gaze, 
and  myself  cried  out. 

The  doctor's  laboratory  stood  in  plain  sight  be 
tween  the  two  columns  of  steam  blown  straight  up 
ward  through  the  stillness  of  the  evening.  It  seemed 
bursting  with  light.  Every  little  crack  leaked  it  in 
generous  streams,  while  the  main  illumination  ap 
peared  fairly  to  bulge  the  walls  outward.  This  was  in 
itself  nothing  extraordinary,  and  indicated  only  the 
activity  of  those  within,  but  while  I  looked  an  irreg 
ular  patch  of  incandescence  suddenly  splashed  the 
cliff  opposite.  For  a  single  instant  the  very  substance 
of  the  rock  glowed  white  hot;  then  from  the  spot  a 
shower  of  spiteful  flakes  shot  as  from  a  pryotechnic, 
and  the  light  was  blotted  out  as  suddenly  as  it  came. 
At  the  same  moment  it  appeared  at  another  point,  ex 
hibited  the  same  phenomena,  died,  flashed  out  at  still 
a  third  place,  and  so  was  repeated  here  and  there  with 
bewildering  rapidity  until  the  walls  of  the  valley 
crackled  and  spat  sparks.  Abruptly  the  darkness  fell. 


i8o  THE    MYSTERY 

As  abruptly  it  was  broken  again  by  a  similar  exhibi 
tion;  only  this  time  the  fire  was  blue.  Blue  was  fol 
lowed  by  purple,  purple  by  red.  Then  ensued  the  brief 
est  possible  pause,  in  which  a  figure  moved  across 
the  bars  of  light  escaping  through  the  chinks  of  the 
laboratory,  and  then  the  whole  valley  blazed  with 
patches  of  vari-coloured  fire.  It  was  not  a  reflection: 
it  was  actual  physical  conflagration  of  the  solid  rock, 
in  irregular  areas.  Some  of  the  fire  shapes  were  most 
fantastic.  And  with  the  unexpectedness  of  a  bursting 
shell  the  surface  of  the  ground  before  our  feet  crackled 
into  a  ghastly  blue  flame. 

The  Nigger  uttered  a  cry  in  his  throat  and  disap 
peared.  I  felt  a  sharp  breath  on  my  neck,  an  ejacula 
tion  of  surprise  at  my  very  ear.  It  was  startling 
enough  to  scare  the  soul  out  of  a  man,  but  I  held  fast 
and  was  just  about  to  step  forward,  when  my  collar 
was  twisted  tight  from  behind.  I  raised  both  hands, 
felt  steel,  and  knew  that  I  was  in  the  grasp  of  Handy 
Solomon's  claw. 

The  sailor  had  me  foul.  I  did  my  best  to  twist 
around,  to  unbutton  the  collar,  but  in  vain.  I  felt  my 
wind  leaving  me,  the  ghastly  blue  light  was  shot  with 
red.  Distinctly  I  heard  the  man's  sharp  intaken  breath 
as  some  new  phenomenon  met  his  eye,  and  his  great 
oath  as  he  swore. 

"  By  the  mother  of  God !  "  he  cried,  "  it's  the  devil." 

Then  I  was  jerked  off  my  feet,  and  the  next  I  knew 
I  was  lying  on  my  back,  very  wet,  on  the  beach;  the 
day  was  breaking,  and  the  men,  quite  sober,  were 
talking  vehemently. 

It  was  impossible  to  make  out  what  they  said,  but 


AN    ADVENTURE    IN    THE   NIGHT     181 

as  Handy  Solomon  and  the  Nigger  were  the  centre  of 
discussion,  I  could  imagine  the  subject.  I  felt  very 
stiff  and  sore  and  hazy  in  my  mind.  My  neck  was  lame 
from  the  dragging  and  my  tongue  dry  from  the  chok 
ing.  For  some  time  I  lay  in  a  half-torpor  watching 
the  lilac  of  dawn  change  to  the  rose  of  sunrise,  utterly 
indifferent  to  everything.  They  had  thrown  me  down 
across  the  first  rise  of  the  little  sand  dunes  back  of  the 
tide  sands,  and  from  it  I  could  at  once  look  out  over 
the  sea  full  of  the  restless  shadows  of  dawn,  and  the 
land  narrowing  to  the  mouth  of  the  arroyo.  I  remem 
ber  wondering  whether  Captain  Selover  were  up  yet. 
Then  with  a  sharp  stab  at  the  heart  I  remembered. 

The  thought  was  like  a  dash  of  cold  water  in  clear 
ing  my  faculties.  I  raised  my  head.  Seaward  a  white 
gull  had  caught  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  beyond  the 
cliffs.  Landward — I  saw  with  a  choke  in  my  throat — 
a  figure  emerging  from  the  arroyo. 

At  the  sight  I  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  move, 
but  with  the  effort  discovered  that  I  was  again  bound. 
My  stirring  thus  called  Pulz's  attention.  Before  I 
could  look  away  he  had  followed  the  direction  of  my 
gaze.  The  discussion  instantly  ceased.  They  waited 
in  grim  silence. 

I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  Percy  Darrow,  carry 
ing  some  sort  of  large  book,  was  walking  rapidly 
toward  us.  Perdosa  had  disappeared.  Thrackles  after 
an  instant  came  and  sat  beside  me  and  clapped  his  big 
hand  over  my  mouth.  It  was  horrible. 

When  within  a  hundred  paces  or  so,  I  could  see  that 
Darrow  laboured  under  some  great  excitement.  His 
usual  indifferent  saunter  had,  as  I  have  indicated, 


182  THE    MYSTERY 

given  way  to  a  firm  and  decided  step;  his  ironical  eye 
glistened;  his  sallow  cheek  glowed. 

"  Boys,"  he  shouted  cheerfully.  "  The  time's  up. 
We've  succeeded.  We'll  sail  just  as  soon  as  the  Lord'll 
let  us  get  ready.  Rustle  the  stuff  aboard.  The  doctor'll 
be  down  in  a  short  time,  and  we  ought  to  be  loaded  by 
night." 

Handy  Solomon  and  Pulz  laid  hand  on  two  of  the 
rifles  near  by  and  began  surreptitiously  to  fill  their 
magazines.  The  Nigger  shook  his  knife  free  of  the 
scabbard  and  sat  with  it  in  his  left  hand,  concealed  by 
his  body.  I  could  feel  Thrackles's  muscles  stiffen.  An 
other  fifty  paces  and  it  would  be  no  longer  necessary 
to  stop  my  mouth. 

The  thought  made  me  desperate.  I  had  failed  as  a 
leader  of  these  men,  and  I  had  been  forced  to  stand  by 
at  debauching,  cruel,  and  murderous  affairs,  but  now 
it  is  over  I  thank  Heaven  the  reproach  cannot  be  made 
against  me  that  at  any  time  I  counted  the  consequences 
to  myself.  Thrackles's  hand  lay  heavy  across  my 
mouth.  I  bit  it  to  the  bone,  and  as  he  involuntarily 
snatched  it  away,  I  rolled  over  toward  the  sea. 

Thus  for  an  instant  I  had  my  mouth  free. 

"Run!  Run!"  I  shouted.  "For  God's  sake " 

Thrackles  leaped  upon  me  and  struck  me  heavily 
upon  the  mouth,  then  sprang  for  a  rifle.  I  managed  to 
struggle  back  to  the  dune,  whence  I  could  see. 


XV 
FIVE    HUNDRED   YARDS'    RANGE 

PERCY  DARROW,  with  the  keenness  that  always  char 
acterised  his  mental  apprehension,  had  understood 
enough  of  my  strangled  cry.  He  had  not  hesitated  nor 
delayed  for  an  explanation,  but  had  turned  track  and 
was  now  running  as  fast  as  his  long  legs  would  carry 
him  back  toward  the  opening  of  the  ravine.  My  com 
panions  stood  watching  him,  but  making  no  attempt 
either  to  shoot  or  to  follow.  For  a  moment  I  could 
not  understand  this,  then  remembered  the  disappear 
ance  of  Perdosa.  My  heart  jumped  wildly,  for  the 
Mexican  had  been  gone  quite  long  enough  to  have  cut 
off  the  assistant's  escape.  I  could  not  doubt  that  he 
would  pick  off  his  man  at  close  range  as  soon  as  the 
fugitive  should  have  reached  the  entrance  to  the 
arroyo. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  he  would  have  done 
so  had  not  his  Mexican  impatience  betrayed  him.  He 
shot  too  soon.  Percy  Darrow  stopped  in  his  tracks. 
Although  we  heard  the  bullet  sing  by  us,  for  an  in 
stant  we  thought  he  was  hit.  Then  Perdosa  fired  a 
second  time,  again  without  result.  Darrow  turned 
sharp  to  the  left  and  began  desperately  to  scale  the 
steep  cliffs. 

I  once  took  part  in  a  wild  boar  hunt  on  the  coast 
of  California.  Our  dogs  had  penned  a  small  band  at 

183 


1 84  THE    MYSTERY 

the  head  of  a  narrow  barranca,  from  which  a  single 
steep  trail  led  over  the  hill.  We,  perched  on  another 
hill  some  three  or  four  hundred  yards  away,  shot  at 
the  animals  as  they  toiled  up  the  trail.  The  range  was 
long,  but  we  had  time,  for  the  severity  of  the  climb 
forced  the  boars  to  a  foot  pace. 

It  was  exactly  like  that.  Percy  Darrow  had  two 
hundred  feet  of  ascent  to  make.  He  could  go  just  so 
fast;  must  consume  just  so  much  time  in  his  snail-like 
progress  up  the  face  of  the  hill.  During  that  time  he 
furnished  an  excellent  target,  and  the  loose  sandstone 
showed  where  each  shot  struck. 

A  significant  indication  was  that  the  men  did  not 
take  the  trouble  to  get  nearer,  for  which  manoeuvre 
they  would  have  had  time  in  plenty,  but  distributed 
themselves  leisurely  for  a  shooting  match. 

"  First  shot,"  claimed  Handy  Solomon,  and  with 
out  delay  fired  off-hand.  A  puff  of  dust  showed  to  the 
right.  "Nerve  no  good,"  he  commented,  "jerked  her 
just  as  I  pulled." 

Pulz  fired  from  the  knee.  The  dust  this  time  puffed 
below. 

"  Thought  she'd  carry  up  at  that  distance,"  he  mut 
tered. 

The  Nigger,  too,  missed,  and  Thrackles  grinned 
triumphantly. 

"  I  get  a  show,"  said  he. 

He  spread  his  massive  legs  apart,  drew  a  deep 
breath,  and  raised  his  weapon.  It  lay  in  his  grasp 
steady  as  a  log,  and  I  saw  that  Percy  Barrow's  fate 
was  in  the  hands  of  that  dangerous  class  of  natural 
marksman  that  possesses  no  nerves.  But  for  the  sec- 


FIVE    HUNDRED   YARDS'    RANGE    185 

ond  time  my  teeth  saved  his  life.  The  trigger  guard 
slipped  against  Thrackles's  lacerated  hand  almost  at 
the  instant  of  discharge.  He  missed;  and  the  bullet 
went  wide. 

Darrow  had  climbed  a  matter  of  twenty  feet. 

Now  the  seamen  distributed  themselves  for  more 
leisurely  and  accurate  marksmanship.  Handy  Solo 
mon  lay  flat  on  his  stomach,  resting  the  rifle  muzzle 
across  the  top  of  a  sand  dune.  Pulz  sat  down,  an 
elbow  on  either  knee  for  the  greater  steadiness.  The 
Nigger  knelt ;  but  Thrackles  remained  on  his  feet.  No 
rest  could  be  steadier  than  the  stone-like  rigidity  of 
his  thick  arms. 

The  firing  now  became  miscellaneous.  No  one  paid 
any  attention  to  anyone  else.  Each  discovered  what  I 
could  have  told  them,  that  even  the  human  figure  at 
five  hundred  yards  is  a  small  mark  for  a  strange  rifle. 
The  constant  correction  of  elevation,  however,  brought 
the  puffs  of  dust  always  closer,  and  I  could  not  but 
realise  that  the  doctrine  of  chances  must  bring  home 
some  of  the  bullets.  I  soon  discovered  by  way  of  com 
fort  that  only  Thrackles  and  Handy  Solomon  really 
understood  firearms ;  and  of  those  two  Thrackles  alone 
had  had  much  experience  at  long  range.  He  told  me 
afterward  he  had  hunted  otter. 

About  halfway  up  the  cliff  Thrackles  fired  his  fifth 
shot.  No  dust  followed  the  discharge;  and  I  saw 
Percy  Darrow  stagger  and  almost  lose  his  hold.  The 
men  yelled  savagely,  but  the  assistant  pulled  himself 
together  and  continued  his  crawling. 

The  sun  had  been  shining  in  our  faces.  I  could 
imagine  its  blurring  effect  on  the  sights.  Now  ab- 


1 86  THE    MYSTERY 

ruptly  it  was  blotted  out,  and  a  semi-twilight  fell.  We 
all  looked  up,  in  spite  of  ourselves.  An  opaque  veil 
had  been  drawn  quite  across  the  heavens,  through 
which  we  could  not  make  out  even  the  shape  of  the 
sun.  It  was  like  a  thunder  cloud  except  that  its  under 
surface  instead  of  being  the  usual  grey-black  was  a 
deep  earth-brown.  As  we  looked  up,  a  deep  bellow 
stirred  the  air,  which  had  fallen  quite  still,  long  forks 
of  lightning  shot  horizontally  from  the  direction  of  the 
island's  interior,  and  flashes  of  dull  red  were  reflected 
from  the  canopy  of  cloud. 

The  men  stared  with  their  mouths  open.  Undoubt 
edly  the  change  had  been  some  time  in  preparation, 
but  all  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  affair  of  the  doc 
tor's  assistant  that  no  one  had  noticed.  It  came  to  our 
consciousness  with  the  suddenness  of  a  theatrical 
change.  A  dull  roaring  commenced,  grew  in  volume, 
and  then  a  great  explosion  shook  the  very  ground 
under  our  feet. 

We  stared  at  each  other,  our  faces  whitening. 

"What  kind  of  hell  has  broke  loose?"  muttered 
Pulz. 

The  Nigger  fell  flat  on  his  face,  uttering  deep  la 
mentations. 

"  Voodoo !  Voodoo !  "  he  groaned. 

A  gentle  shower  of  white  flakes  began,  powdering 
the  surface  of  everything.  Far  out  to  sea  we  could 
make  out  the  sun  on  the  water.  Gradually  the  roaring 
died  down;  the  lightning  ceased.  Comparative  peace 
ensued.  We  looked  again  toward  the  cliff.  Percy  Dar- 
row  had  not  for  one  instant  ceased  to  climb.  He  was 
just  topping  the  edge  of  the  bluff.  Handy  Solomon, 


The  firing  now  became  miscellaneous.      No  one  paid  any 
attention  to  any  one  else 


FIVE    HUNDRED   YARDS'    RANGE    187 

with  a  cry  of  rage,  seized  another  rifle  and  emptied 
the  magazine  at  him  as  fast  as  the  lever  could  be 
worked.  The  dust  flew  wild  in  a  half  dozen  places. 
Darrow  drew  himself  up  to  the  sky  line,  raised  his 
hat  ironically,  and  disappeared. 

"  Damn  his  soul !  "  cried  Handy  Solomon,  his  face 
livid.  He  threw  his  rifle  to  the  beach  and  danced  on  it 
in  an  ecstasy  of  rage. 

"  What  do  we  care,"  growled  Thrackles,  "  he's  no 
good  to  us.  Wat  I  want  to  know  is,  wat's  up  here, 
anyhow !  " 

"  Didn't  you  never  see  a  volcano  go  off,  you  swab?  " 
snapped  Handy  Solomon. 

"  Easy  with  your  names,  mate.  No,  I  never  did. 
We  better  get  out." 

"Without  the  chest?" 

"  S'pose  we  go  up  the  gulch  and  get  it,  then,"  sug 
gested  Thrackles. 

But  at  this  Handy  Solomon  drew  back  in  evident 
terror. 

"  Up  that  hole  of  hell?  "  he  objected.  "  Not  I.  You 
an'  Pulz  go." 

They  wrangled  over  it,  Pulz  joining.  Perdosa, 
shaken  to  the  soul,  crept  in,  and  made  a  bee-line  for 
the  rum  barrel.  He  and  the  Nigger  were  frankly 
scared.  They  had  the  nervous  jumps  at  every  little 
noise  or  unexpected  movement;  and  even  the  natural 
explanation  of  these  phenomena  gave  them  very  little 
reassurance.  I  knew  that  Darrow  would  hurry  as  fast 
as  he  could  back  to  the  valley  by  way  of  the  upper 
hills;  I  knew  that  he  had  there  several  sporting  rifles; 
and  I  hoped  greatly  that  he  and  Dr.  Schermerhorn 


i88  THE    MYSTERY 

might  accomplish  something  before  the  men  had  re 
covered  their  wits  to  the  point  of  foreseeing  his  prob 
able  attack.  The  uncanny  cloud  in  the  heavens,  the 
weird  half-light,  and  the  explosions,  which  now  grew 
more  frequent,  had  their  strong  effect  in  spite  of  ex 
planation.  The  men  were  not  really  afraid  to  ven 
ture  in  quest  of  the  supposed  treasure;  but  they  were 
in  a  frame  of  mind  that  dreaded  the  first  plunge.  And 
time  was  going  by. 

But  the  fates  were  against  us,  as  always  in  this  ill- 
starred  voyage.  I,  watching  from  my  sand  dune,  saw 
a  second  figure  emerge  from  the  arroyo's  mouth.  It 
appeared  to  stagger  as  though  hurt;  and  every  eight 
or  ten  paces  it  stopped  and  rested  in  a  bent-over  posi 
tion.  The  murky  light  was  too  dim  for  me  to  make 
out  details;  but  after  a  moment  a  rift  in  the  veil  en 
abled  me  to  identify  Dr.  Schermerhorn  carrying,  with 
great  difficulty,  the  chest. 


XVI 

THE   MURDER 

I  TOOK  no  chances,  but  began  at  once  to  shout,  as  soon 
as  I  saw  the  men  had  noticed  his  coming.  It  was  im 
possible  for  me  to  tell  whether  or  not  Dr.  Schermer- 
horn  heard  me.  If  he  did,  he  misunderstood  my  inten 
tion,  for  he  continued  painfully  to  advance.  The  only 
result  I  gained  was  to  get  myself  well  gagged  with  my 
own  pocket  handkerchief,  and  thrown  in  a  hollow  be 
tween  the  dunes.  Thence  I  could  hear  Handy  Solo 
mon  speaking  fiercely  and  rapidly. 

"Now  you  let  me  run  this,"  he  commanded;  "we 
got  to  find  out  somethin'.  It  ain't  no  good  to  us  with 
out  we  knows — and  we  want  to  find  out  how  he's 
got  the  rest  hid." 

They  assented. 

"  I'm  goin'  out  to  help  him  carry  her  in,"  announced 
the  seaman. 

A  long  pause  ensued,  in  which  I  watched  the  deep 
canopy  of  red-black  thicken  overhead.  A  strange  and 
unearthly  light  had  fallen  on  the  world,  and  the  air 
was  quite  still.  After  a  while  I  heard  Handy  Solomon 
and  Dr.  Schermerhorn  join  the  group. 

"  There  you  are,  Perfessor,"  cried  Handy  Solomon, 
in  tones  of  the  greatest  heartiness,  "  I'll  put  her  right 
there,  and  she'll  be  as  safe  as  a  babby  at  home.  She's 
heavy,  though." 

189 


190  THE    MYSTERY 

Dr.  Schermerhorn  laughed  a  pleased  and  excited 
laugh.  I  could  tell  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  that  he 
was  strung  high,  and  guessed  that  his  triumph  needed 
an  audience. 

"You  may  say  so  well!"  he  said.  "It  iss  heafy; 
and  it  iss  heafy  with  the  world-desire,  the  great  sub 
stance  than  can  do  efferything.  Where  iss  Percy  ? " 

"  He's  gone  aboard." 

"  We  must  embark.  The  time  is  joost  right.  A  day 
sooner  and  the  egsperiment  would  haf  been  spoilt; 
but  now  " — he  laughed — "  let  the  island  sink,  we  do 
not  care.  We  must  embark  hastily." 

"  It'll  take  a  man  long  time  to  carry  down  all  your 
things,  Perfessor." 

"  Oh,  led  them  go !  The  eruption  has  alretty  swal 
lowed  them  oop.  The  lava  iss  by  now  a  foot  deep  in 
the  valley.  Before  long  it  flows  here,  so  we  must 
embark." 

"  But  you've  lost  all  them  vallyable  things,  Perfes 
sor,"  said  Handy  Solomon.  "  Now,  I  call  that  hard 
luck." 

Dr.  Schermerhorn  snapped  his  fingers. 

"  They  do  not  amoundt  to  that !  "  he  cried.  "  Here, 
here,  in  this  leetle  box  iss  all  the  treasure!  Here  iss 
the  labour  of  ten  years!  Here  iss  the  Laughing  Lass, 
and  the  crew,  and  all  the  equipmendt  comprised.  Here 
iss  the  world !  " 

"  I'm  a  plain  seaman,  Perfessor,  and  I  suppose  I 
got  to  believe  you;  but  she's  a  main  small  box  for  all 
that." 

"  With  that  small  box  you  can  haf  all  your  wishes," 
asserted  the  Professor,  still  in  the  German  lyric  strain 


THE    MURDER  191 

over  his  triumph.  "  It  iss  the  box  of  enchantments. 
You  haf  but  to  will  the  change  you  would  haf  taig 
place — it  iss  done.  The  substance  of  the  rocks,  the 
molecule— all !  " 

"Could  a  man  make  diamonds?"  asked  Pulz  ab 
ruptly.  I  could  hear  the  sharp  intake  of  the  men's 
breathing  as  they  hung  on  the  reply. 

"  Much  more  wonderful  changes  than  that  it  can 
accomplish,"  replied  the  doctor,  with  an  indulgent 
laugh.  "  That  change  iss  simple.  Carbon  iss  coal ;  car 
bon  iss  diamond.  You  see?  One  has  but  to  change  the 
form,  not  the  substance." 

"Then  it'll  change  coal  to  diamonds?"  asked 
Handy  Solomon. 

"  Yes,  you  gather  my  meanings " 

I  heard  a  sharp  squeak  like  a  terrified  mouse.  Then 
a  long,  dreadful  silence;  then  two  dull,  heavy  blows, 
spaced  with  deliberation.  A  moment  later  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Handy  Solomon  bent  forward  to  the  labour 
of  dragging  a  body  toward  the  sea,  his  steel  claw 
hooked  under  the  angle  of  the  jaw  as  a  man  handles 
a  fish.  Pulz  came  and  threw  off  my  bonds  and  gag. 

"  Come  along!  "  said  he. 

All  kept  looking  fearfully  toward  the  arroyo.  A 
dense  white  steam  marked  its  course.  The  air  was 
now  heavy  with  portent.  Successive  explosions,  some 
light,  some  severe,  shook  the  foundations  of  the  is 
land.  Great  rocks  and  boulders  bounded  down  the 
hills.  The  flashes  of  lightning  had  become  more  fre 
quent.  We  moved,  exaggerated  to  each  other's  vision 
by  the  strange  light,  uncouth  and  gigantic. 

"  Let's  get  out  of  this!  "  cried  Thrackles. 


192  THE    MYSTERY 

We  turned  at  the  word  and  ran,  Thrackles  stag 
gering  under  the  weight  of  the  chest.  All  our  belong 
ings  we  abandoned,  and  set  out  for  the  Laughing 
IMSS  with  only  the  tatters  in  which  we  stood.  Luckily 
for  us  a  great  part  of  the  ship's  stores  had  been  re 
turned  to  her  hold  after  the  last  thorough  scrubbing, 
so  we  were  in  subsistence,  but  all  our  clothes,  all  our 
personal  belongings,  were  left  behind  us  on  the  beach. 
For  after  once  we  had  topped  the  cliff  that  led  over 
to  the  cove,  I  doubt  if  any  consideration  on  earth  would 
have  induced  us  to  return  to  that  accursed  place. 

The  row  out  to  the  ship  was  wet  and  dangerous. 
Seismic  disturbances  were  undoubtedly  responsible  for 
high  pyramidic  waves  that  lifted  and  fell  without  on 
ward  movement.  We  fairly  tumbled  up  out  of  the 
dory,  which  we  did  not  hoist  on  deck,  but  left  at  the 
end  of  the  painter  to  beat  her  sides  against  the  ship. 


XVII 
THE    OPEN    SEA 

OUR  haste,  however,  availed  us  little,  for  there  was 
no  wind  at  all.  We  lay  for  over  two  hours  under  the 
weird  light,  over-canopied  by  the  red-brown  cloud, 
while  the  explosions  shook  the  foundations  of  the 
wrorld.  Nobody  ventured  below.  The  sails  flapped 
idly  from  the  masts :  the  blocks  and  spars  creaked : 
the  three-cornered  waves  rose  straight  up  and  fell 
again  as  though  reaching  from  the  deep. 

When  the  men  first  began  to  sweat  the  sails  up,  evi 
dently  in  preparation  for  an  immediate  departure,  I 
objected  vehemently. 

"  You  aren't  going  to  leave  him  on  the  island,"  I 
cried.  "  He'll  die  of  starvation." 

They  did  not  answer  me;  but  after  a  little  more, 
when  my  expostulations  had  become  more  positive, 
Handy  Solomon  dropped  the  halliard,  and  drew  me  to 
one  side. 

"  Look  here,  you,"  he  snarled,  "  you'd  better  just 
stow  your  gab.  You're  lucky  to  be  here  yourself,  let 
alone  botherin'  your  thick  head  about  anybody  else, 
and  you  can  kiss  the  Book  on  that !  Do  you  know  why 
you  ain't  with  them  carrion?"  He  jerked  his  thumb 
toward  the  beach.  "  It's  because  Solomon  Anderson's 
your  friend.  Thrackles  would  have  killed  you  in  a 
minute  'count  of  his  bit  hand.  I  got  you  your  chance. 

193 


194  THE    MYSTERY 

Now  don't  you  be  a  fool,  for  I  ain't  goin'  to  stand 
between  you  and  them  another  time.  Besides,  he  won't 
last  long  if  that  volcano  keeps  at  it." 

He  left  me.  Whatever  truth  lay  in  his  assumption 
of  friendship,  and  I  doubted  there  existed  much  of 
either  truth  or  friendship  in  him,  I  saw  the  common 
sense  of  his  advice.  I  was  in  no  position  to  dictate 
a  course  of  action. 

After  the  sails  were  on  her  we  gathered  at  the  star 
board  rail  to  watch  the  shore.  There  the  hills  ran  into 
inky  blackness,  as  the  horizon  sometimes  merges  into 
a  thunder  squall.  A  dense  white  steam  came  from  the 
creek  bed  within  the  arroyo.  The  surges  beat  on  the 
shore  louder  than  the  ordinary,  and  the  foam,  even 
in  these  day  hours,  seemed  to  throw  up  a  faint  phos 
phorescence.  Frequent  earthquakes  oscillated  the  land 
scape.  We  watched,  I  do  not  know  for  what,  our 
eyes  straining  into  the  murk  of  the  island.  No 
body  thought  of  the  chest,  which  lay  on  the  cabin 
table  aft.  I  contributed  maliciously  my  bit  to  their 
fear. 

"  These  volcanic  islands  sometimes  sink  entirely," 
I  suggested,  "  and  in  that  case  we'd  be  carried  down 
by  the  suction." 

It  was  intended  merely  to  increase  their  uneasiness, 
but,  strangely  enough,  after  a  few  moments  it  ended 
by  imposing  itself  on  my  own  fears.  I  began  to  be 
afraid  the  island  would  sink,  began  to  watch  for  it, 
began  to  share  the  fascinated  terror  of  these  men. 

The  suspense  after  a  time  became  unbearable,  for 
while  the  portent — whether  physical  or  moral  we  were 
too  far  under  its  influence  to  distinguish — grew  mo- 


THE    OPEN    SEA  295 

mentarily,  our  own  souls  did  not  expand  in  due  cor 
respondence.  We  talked  of  towing,  of  kedging  out,  of 
going  to  any  extreme,  even  to  small  boats.  Then  just 
as  we  were  about  to  move  toward  some  accomplish 
ment,  a  new  phenomenon  chained  our  attention  to  the 
shore. 

In  the  mouth  of  the  arroyo  appeared  a  red  glow.  A 
moment  later  a  wave  of  lava,  white-hot,  red,  irides 
cent,  cooling  to  a  black  crust  cracked  in  incandescence, 
rolled  majestically  out  over  the  grassy  plain.  Each  in 
stant  it  grew  in  volume,  until  the  ravine  must  have 
been  flowing  half  full. 

Before  its  scorching  the  grasses  even  at  the  edge  of 
the  sea  were  smoking,  and  our  camp  had  already  burst 
into  flames.  We  had  to  shield  our  faces  against  the 
heat,  and  the  wooden  railing  under  our  hands  was 
growing  warm. 

Pulz  turned  an  ashy  countenance  toward  us. 

"  My  God,"  he  screamed.  "  What's  going  to  hap 
pen  when  she  hits  the  sea  ?  " 

She  hit  the  sea,  and  immediately  a  great  cloud  of 
steam  arose,  and  the  hissing  as  of  a  thousand  serpents. 
We  felt  the  strong  suction  under  our  keel,  and  stag 
gered  under  the  jerk  of  the  ship's  cable  as  she  swung 
toward  the  beach.  The  paint  was  beginning  to  crackle 
along  the  rail.  We  could  see  nothing  for  the  scalding 
white  veil  that  enveloped  us;  we  could  hear  nothing 
for  the  roar  of  steam,  the  bombardment  of  explosions, 
and  the  crash  of  thunder;  but  our  nostrils  were  as 
saulted  by  a  most  unearthly  medley  of  smells. 

"  Hell's  loose,"  growled  Thrackles. 

We  were  clinging  hard  as  the  ship  reeled.    Huge 


196  THE    MYSTERY 

surges  were  racing  in  from  seaward,  growing  larger 
with  each  successive  billow. 

Handy  Solomon  raised  his  head,  listened  intently, 
and  struck  his  forehead. 

"  Wind,"  he  screamed  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
jumped  for  the  halliards. 

Thrackles  followed  him,  but  no  one  else  moved.  In 
an  instant  the  two  were  back,  striking  and  kicking  sav 
agely,  rousing  their  companions  to  the  danger.  We  all 
laid  into  the  canvas  like  mad,  and  in  no  time  had 
snugged  down  to  a  staysail  and  the  peak  of  our  main 
sail.  Thrackles  drew  his  knife  and  jumped  for  the 
cable,  while  Handy  Solomon,  his  eyes  snapping,  seized 
the  wheel. 

We  finished  just  in  time.  I  was  turning  away  after 
tying  the  last  gasket  on  the  foresail,  when  the  deck 
up-ended  and  tipped  me  headforemost  into  the  star 
board  scupper.  At  the  same  time  a  smother  of  salt 
water  blew  over  the  port  rail,  now  far  above  me,  to 
drench  me  as  thoroughly  as  though  I  had  fallen  over 
board.  I  brushed  out  my  eyes  to  find  the  ship  smack 
on  her  beam  ends,  and  the  wind  howling  by  from  the 
sea. 

I  had  company  enough  in  the  scuppers.  Only 
Handy  Solomon  clung  desperately  to  the  wheel,  jam 
ming  his  weight  to  port  in  the  hope  she  might  pay 
up :  Thrackles,  too,  his  eye  squinted  along  some  bear 
ing  of  his  own,  was  waiting  for  her  to  drag.  Pres 
ently  it  became  evident  that  she  was  doing  so, 
whereupon  he  drew  his  knife  across  our  hawser. 

"  My  God,"  Chattered  Pulz  at  my  ear.  "  If  we  go 
ashore " 


THE    OPEN    SEA  197 

He  did  not  need  to  finish.  Unless  the  Laughing 
Lass  could  recover  before  the  squall  had  driven  her 
to  leeward  a  scant  half  mile,  we  should  be  cooked  alive 
in  the  boiling  cauldron  at  the  shore's  edge. 

For  an  interminable  time,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  we 
lay  absolutely  motionless.  The  scene  is  stamped  in 
delibly  on  my  memory — the  bulwarks  high  above  me, 
the  steep,  sleek  deck,  the  piratical  figure  tense  at  the 
wheel,  the  snarling  water  racing  from  beneath  us,  the 
lurid  glow  to  landward  crawling  up  on  us  inch  by  inch 
like  a  hungry  wild  beast.  Then  almost  imperceptibly 
the  brave  schooner  righted.  The  strained  lines  on 
Handy  Solomon's  carven  features  relaxed  little  by  lit 
tle.  Thrackles,  staring  over  the  side,  let  out  a  mighty 
roar. 

"  Steerage  way,"  he  shouted,  and  executed  an  awk 
ward  clog  dance  on  the  reeling  deck. 

She  moved  forward,  there  was  no  doubt  of  that,  for 
gradually  we  were  eating  toward  the  wind — but  we 
made  considerable  leeway  as  well.  Handy  Solomon, 
taut  as  the  weather  rigging,  took  his  little  advantages 
one  by  one  like  precious  gifts.  Light  there  was  none; 
the  land  was  blotted  out  by  the  steam  and  murk  which 
had  crept  to  sea  and  now  was  hurled  back  by  the  wind. 
All  we  could  do  was  to  hang  there,  tasting  the  copper 
of  excitement,  waiting  for  these  different  forces  to 
adjust  themselves.  Inch  by  inch  we  crept  forward: 
foot  by  foot  we  made  leeway.  The  intensest  of  the  lava 
glow  worked  its  way  from  directly  abeam  to  the  quar 
ter.  By  this  we  knew  we  must  be  nearly  opposite  the 
cove.  At  once  a  new  doubt  sprang  up  in  our  minds. 

A  moment  ago  all  the  energy  of  our  desires  had 


198  THE    MYSTERY 

gone  up  in  the  ambition  to  avoid  being  cast  on  the 
beach.  Now  we  saw  that  that  was  not  enough.  It  was 
necessary  to  squeeze  around  the  point  where  lay  the 
Golden  Horn,  in  order  to  avoid  the  fate  that  had 
overtaken  her.  Handy  Solomon  yelled  something  at 
us.  We  could  not  hear,  but  our  own  knowledge  told 
us  what  it  must  be,  and  with  one  accord  we  turned  to 
on  the  foresail.  With  the  peak  of  it  hoisted  we  moved 
a  trifle  faster,  though  the  schooner  lay  over  at  a  peril 
ous  angle.  A  moment  later  the  fogs  parted  to  show 
us  the  cliffs  looming  startlingly  near.  There  were  the 
donkey  engine  and  the  works  we  had  constructed  for 
wrecking — and  there  beside  them,  watching  us  re 
flectively,  stood  Percy  Darrow. 

For  ten  minutes  we  stared  at  him  fascinated,  during 
which  time  the  ship  laboured  against  the  staggering 
winds,  gained  and  lost  in  its  buffeting  with  the  great 
surges.  The  breakers  hurling  themselves  in  wild  aban 
don  against  the  rocks  sent  their  back-wash  of  tumbling 
peaks  to  our  very  bilges.  The  few  remains  of  the 
Golden  Horn,  alternately  drenched  and  draining, 
seemed  to  picture  to  us  our  inevitable  end. 
**  I  think  we  had  all  selected  the  same  two  points  for 
our  "  bearings,"  a  rock  and  a  drop  of  the  cliff  bolder 
than  the  ordinary.  If  the  rock  opened  from  the  cliff 
to  eastward,  we  were  lost;  if  it  remained  stationary, 
we  were  at  least  holding  our  own;  if  it  opened  out  to 
westward,  we  were  saved.  We  watched  with  a  strained 
eagerness  impossible  to  describe.  At  each  momentary 
gain  or  rebuff  we  uttered  ejaculations.  The  Nigger 
mumbled  charms.  Every  once  in  a  while  one  of  us 
would  snatch  a  glance  to  leeward  at  the  cruel,  white 


THE    OPEN    SEA  199 

waters,  the  whirl  of  eddies  where  the  sea  was  beaten, 
only  to  hurry  back  to  the  rock  and  the  point  of  the 
cliff  whence  our  message  of  safety  or  destruction  was 
to  be  flung.  Once  I  looked  up.  Percy  Darrow  was 
leaning  gracefully  against  a  stanchion,  watching.  His 
soft  hat  was  pulled  over  his  eyes;  he  stroked  softly 
his  little  moustache;  I  caught  the  white  puff  of  his 
cigarette.  During  the  moment  of  my  inattention  some 
thing  happened.  A  wild  shout  burst  from  the  men.  I 
whirled,  and  saw  to  my  great  joy  a  strip  of  sky  west 
ward  between  the  cliff  and  the  rock.  And  at  that  very 
instant  a  billow  larger  than  the  ordinary  rolled  be 
neath  us,  and  in  the  back  suction  of  its  passage  I  could 
dimly  make  out  cruel,  dangerous  rocks  lying  almost 
under  our  keel. 

Slowly  we  crept  away.  Our  progress  seemed  in 
finitesimal,  and  yet  it  was  real.  In  a  while  we  had 
gained  sea  room;  in  a  while  more  we  were  fairly 
under  sailing  way,  and  the  cliffs  had  begun  to  drop 
from  our  quarter.  With  one  accord  we  looked  back. 
Percy  Darrow  waved  his  hand  in  an  indescribably 
graceful  and  ironic  gesture;  then  turned  square  on 
his  heel  and  sauntered  away  to  the  north  valley,  out 
of  the  course  of  the  lava.  That  was  the  last  I  ever 
saw  of  him. 

As  we  made  our  way  from  beneath  the  island,  the 
weight  of  the  wind  seemed  to  lessen.  We  got  the  fore 
sail  on  her,  then  a  standing  jib;  finally  little  by  little 
all  her  ordinary  working  canvas.  Before  we  knew  it, 
we  were  bowling  along  under  a  stiff  breeze,  and  the 
island  was  dropping  astern. 

From  a  distance  it  presented  a  truly  imposing  sight. 


200  THE    MYSTERY 

The  centre  shot  intermittent  blasts  of  ruddy  light ;  ex 
plosions,  deadened  by  distance,  still  reverberated 
strongly;  the  broad  canopy  of  brown-red,  split  with 
lightnings,  spread  out  like  a  huge  umbrella.  The  lurid 
gloom  that  had  enveloped  us  in  the  atmosphere  ap 
parently  of  a  nether  world  had  given  place  to  a  twi 
light.  Abruptly  we  passed  from  it  to  a  sun-kissed, 
sparkling  sea.  The  breeze  blew  sweet  and  strong;  the 
waves  ran  untortured  in  their  natural  long  courses. 

At  once  the  men  seemed  to  throw  off  the  supersti 
tious  terror  that  had  cowed  them.  Pulz  and  Thrackles 
went  to  bail  the  extra  dory,  alongside,  which  by 
a  miracle  had  escaped  swamping.  The  Nigger  disap 
peared  in  the  galley.  Perdosa  relieved  Handy  Solo 
mon  at  the  wheel;  and  Handy  Solomon  came  directly 
over  to  me. 


XVIII 
THE   CATASTROPHE 

HE  approached  me  with  a  confidence  that  proclaimed 
the  new  leader.  A  brace  of  Colt's  revolvers  swung 
from  his  belt,  the  tatters  of  his  blood-stained  garments 
hung  about  him. 

"  Well,  here  we  are/'  he  remarked. 

I  nodded,  waiting  for  what  he  had  to  disclose. 

"  And  lucky  for  you  that  you're  here  at  all,  say  I," 
he  continued.  "  And  now  that  you're  here,  w'at  are 
you  going  to  do?  That's  the  question — w'at  are  you 
going  to  do  ? "  He  cocked  his  head  sidewise  and 
looked  at  me  speculatively  as  a  cat  might  look  at  a 
rather  large  mouse.  "  We  been  a  little  rough,"  he  went 
on  after  a  moment,  "  and  some  folks  is  strait-laced. 
There  might  be  trouble.  And  you  know  a  heap  too 
much." 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me?  "  I  demanded. 

"  It's  just  this,"  he  returned  briskly.  "  If  you'll  lay 
us  our  course  to  San  Salvador,  we'll  let  you  go  as  one 
of  us  and  no  questions  asked." 

"  If  not?"  I  inquired. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  leave  it  to  you." 

"  There's  always  the  sea,"  I  suggested. 

"  And  it's  deep,"  he  agreed. 

We  looked  out  to  the  horizon  in  a  diplomatic 
silence.  I  did  not  know  whether  to  be  angry,  amused, 

201 


202  THE    MYSTERY 

or  alarmed  that  the  man  estimated  my  cleverness  so 
slightly.  Why,  the  hook  was  barely  concealed,  and  the 
bait  of  the  coarsest.  That  I  would  go  safe  to  a  sight 
of  San  Salvador  I  did  not  doubt:  that  I  would  never 
enter  the  harbour  I  was  absolutely  certain.  The  choice 
offered  me  was  practically  whether  I  preferred  being 
thrown  overboard  now  or  several  hundred  miles  to 
southeastward. 

I  thought  rapidly.  It  might  be  possible  to  announce 
a  daily  false  reckoning  to  the  crew,  to  sail  the  ship 
within  rowing  distance  of  some  coast;  and  then  to 
escape  while  the  men  believed  themselves  many  hun 
dred  miles  at  sea.  It  would  take  nice  calculation  to 
prevent  suspicion^  but  as  it  was  the  only  chance  I 
resolved  upon  it  immediately. 

"That's  all  very  well,"  I  said  firmly,  "but  you 
can't  get  anywhere  without  me,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
put  in  two  years  and  then  keep  my  mouth  shut  for 
nothing.  I  want  a  share  in  the  swag — an  even  share 
with  the  rest  of  you." 

"Oh,  that'll  be  all  right,"  he  cried;  "you  can 
have  it." 

If  anything  was  needed  to  convince  me  of  the  man's 
sinister  intentions,  this  too  ready  acquiescence  would 
have  been  enough.  I  knew  him  too  well.  If  he  had 
had  the  slightest  intention  of  permitting  me  to  go  free, 
he  would  have  bargained. 

The  Nigger  called  us  to  mess.  We  ate  in  the  after 
cabin.  The  chest  was  locked  and  the  men  had  as  yet 
been  unable  to  break  into  it.  Pulz  professed  some 
skill  in  locksmithing  and  promised  to  experiment  later. 
After  mess  we  went  on  deck  again.  The  island  had 


THE    CATASTROPHE  203 

dropped  down  to  the  horizon  and  showed  as  a  bril 
liant  glow  under  a  dark  canopy.  I  leaned  over  the  rail 
looking  at  it.  Below  me  the  extra  dory  bumped  along. 
The  idea  came  to  me  that  if  I  could  escape  that  night, 
I  could  row  back  to  Percy  Darrow.  The  two  of  us 
could  make  shift  to  live  on  fish  and  shellfish  and  mut 
ton.  The  plan  rapidly  defined  itself  in  my  brain.  From 
the  remains  of  the  Golden  Horn  we  could  construct 
some  kind  of  a  craft  in  which  to  run  free  to  the  sum 
mer  trades.  Thus  we  might  in  time  reach  some  one 
or  another  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  whence  a  passing 
trader  could  take  us  back  to  civilisation.  There  were 
many  elements  of  uncertainty  in  the  scheme,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  less  desperate  than  trusting  to  the  ca 
prices  of  these  men,  especially  since  they  now  had  free 
access  to  the  liquor  stores. 

While  I  leaned  over  the  rail  engrossed  in  these 
thoughts,  one  of  the  black  thunder  clouds  that  had 
been  gathering  and  dissipating  over  the  island  dur 
ing  the  entire  afternoon  suddenly  glowed  overhead 
with  a  strange  white  incandescence  startlingly  akin 
to  Darrow's  so-called  "  devil  fires."  Strangely  enough, 
this  illumination,  unlike  the  volcanic  glows,  appeared 
to  be  cast  on  the  clouds  from  without  rather  than  shot 
through  them  from  within,  as  were  the  other  volcanic 
emanations.  At  the  same  instant  I  experienced  a 
sharp  interior  revulsion  of  some  sort,  most  briefly 
momentary,  but  of  a  character  that  shook  me  from 
head  to  toe. 

I  had  no  time  to  analyse  these  various  impressions, 
however,  for  my  attention  was  almost  instantly  dis 
tracted.  From  the  cabin  came  the  sound  of  a  sharp 


204  THE    MYSTERY 

fall,  then  a  man  cried  out,  and  on  the  heels  of  it  Pulz 
darted  from  the  cabin,  screaming  horribly.  We  were 
all  on  deck,  and  as  the  little  man  rushed  toward  the 
stern  Handy  Solomon  twisted  him  deftly  from  his 
feet. 

"  My  God,  mate,  what  is  it?  "  he  cried,  as  he  pinned 
the  sufferer  to  the  deck. 

But  Pulz  could  not  answer.  He  shivered,  stiffened, 
and  lay  rigid,  his  eyes  rolled  back. 

"  Fits,"  remarked  Thrackles  impatiently. 

The  excitement  died.  Rum  was  forced  between  the 
victim's  lips.  After  a  little  he  recovered,  but  could 
tell  us  nothing  of  his  seizure. 

After  the  dishes  had  been  swept  aside  from  supper, 
Handy  Solomon  announced  a  second  attempt  to  open 
the  chest. 

"  Pancho,  here,  says  he's  been  a  mechanic,"  said 
he.  "  I  right  well  know  he's  been  a  housebreaker.  So 
he's  got  the  sabe  for  the  job,  and  you  can  kiss  the 
Book  on  that." 

Perdosa,  with  a  grin,  leaned  over  the  cover  from 
behind  and  began  to  pick  away  at  the  lock  with  a  long, 
crooked  wire.  The  others  drew  close  about.  I  slipped 
nearer  the  door,  imagining  that  in  their  riveted  inter 
est  I  saw  my  opportunity.  To  my  surprise  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  legs  disappearing  up  the  companion.  I 
took  stock.  Pulz  had  gone  on  deck. 

This  surprised  me,  for  I  should  have  thought  every 
man  interested  enough  in  the  supposed  treasure  to 
wish  to  be  present  at  its  uncovering;  and  it  annoyed 
me  still  more — the  success  of  my  plan  demanded  a 
clear  deck.  However,  there  was  nothing  for  it  now 


THE    CATASTROPHE  205 

but  to  trust  that  Pulz  had  wished  to  visit  the  fore 
castle,  and  that  I  might  find  the  afterworks  empty. 

I  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  companion  and  looked 
back.  A  breathlessness  of  excitement  held  the  pirates 
in  a  vise.  From  above,  the  hanging  lamp  threw  strong 
shadows  across  their  faces,  bringing  out  the  deep 
lines,  accentuating  the  dominant  passions.  With  their 
rags  and  blood,  their  unshaven  faces,  their  firearms, 
their  filth,  they  showed  in  violent  antithesis  to  the  im 
maculate  white  of  Old  Scrubs's  cabin,  its  glitter 
ing  brass,  and  its  shining  leather.  I  darted  up  the 
steps. 

The  contrast  of  the  starry  night  with  the  glare  of 
the  cabin  lamp  dazzled  my  eyes.  I  stood  stock  still 
for  a  moment,  during  which  the  only  sounds  audible 
were  the  singing  of  the  winds  through  the  rigging, 
the  wash  of  the  sea,  and  the  small,  sharp  click  of  Per- 
dosa's  instrument  as  he  worked  at  the  chest. 

Presently  I  could  see  better.  I  looked  forward  and 
aft  for  Pulz,  but  could  see  nothing  of  him,  and  had 
just  about  concluded  that  he  had  gone  forward  when 
I  happened  to  glance  aloft.  There,  to  my  astonish 
ment,  I  made  him  out,  huddled  in  silhouette  against 
the  stars,  close  to  the  main  truck.  What  he  was  doing 
there  I  could  not  imagine.  However,  I  did  not  have 
time  to  bother  my  head  about  him,  further  than  to  re 
joice  that  he  could  not  obstruct  me. 

I  should  very  much  have  liked  to  get  hold  of  a 
rifle  and  ammunition,  or  at  least  to  lay  in  biscuit  and 
water,  but  for  this  there  was  no  time.  It  was  not  abso 
lutely  essential.  The  dull  glow  of  the  island  was  still 
visible.  I  had  my  pillar  of  fire  and  smoke  to  guide  me. 


206  THE    MYSTERY 

Without  further  delay  I  jerked  loose  the  painter  and 
drew  the  extra  dory  alongside. 

I  had  proceeded  just  so  far  in  my  movements,  when 
the  most  extraordinary  thing  happened.  I  shall  try 
to  tell  you  of  it  as  accurately  as  possible,  and  in  the 
exact  order  of  its  occurrence.  First  a  long,  straight 
shaft  of  white  light  shot  straight  up  through  the  cabin 
roof  to  a  great  height.  It  shone  through  the  wooden 
planks  as  an  ordinary  light  shines  through  glass.  By 
contrast  the  surrounding  blackness  was  thrown  into  a 
deeper  shade,  and  yet  the  shaft  itself  was  so  brilliant 
as  almost  to  scotch  the  sight.  Curiously  enough,  it  was 
defined  accurately,  being  exactly  in  shape  like  one  of 
the  rectangular  tin  air-shafts  you  see  so  often  in  city 
hotels.  At  the  instant  of  its  appearance,  the  wind  fell 
quite  calm. 

Almost  immediately  the  rectangle  on  the  roof 
through  which  the  light  made  its  passage  began  to 
splay  out,  like  lighted  oil,  although  the  column  re 
tained  still  the  integrity  of  its  outline.  The  fire,  if  such 
it  could  be  called,  ran  with  incredible  rapidity  along 
the  seams  between  the  planks,  forward  and  aft,  until 
the  entire  deck  was  sketched  like  a  pyrotechnic  display 
in  thin,  vivid  lines  of  incandescence.  From  each  of 
these  lines  then  the  fire  began  again  to  spread,  as 
though  soaking  through  the  planks. 

All  took  place  practically  in  an  instant  of  time.  I 
had  no  opportunity  to  move  nor  to  cry  out;  indeed, 
my  perceptions  were  inadequate  to  the  task  of  mere 
observation.  Up  to  now  there  had  been  no  sound.  The 
wind  had  fallen;  the  waters  passed  unnoticed.  A  still 
ness  of  death  seemed  to  have  descended  on  the  ship.  It 


THE   CATASTROPHE  207 

was  broken  by  a  sharp  double  report,  one  as  of  the  fall 
of  a  metallic  substance,  the  other  caused  by  the  body  of 
Pulz,  which,  shaken  loose  from  the  truck  by  a  heavy 
roll,  smashed  against  the  rail  of  the  ship  and  splashed 
overboard.  Someone  cried  out  sharply.  An  instant 
later  the  entire  crew  struggled  out  from  the  com- 
panionway,  rushed  in  grim  silence  to  the  side  of  the 
vessel,  and  threw  themselves  into  the  sea. 

My  own  ideas  were  somewhat  confused.  The  fire 
had  practically  enveloped  the  ship.  I  thought  to  feel 
it;  and  yet  my  skin  was  cool  to  the  touch.  The  ship's 
outlines  became  blurred.  A  dizziness  overtook  me; 
and  then  all  at  once  a  great  desire  seized  and  shook 
my  very  soul.  I  cannot  tell  you  the  vehemence  of  this 
desire.  It  was  a  madness;  nothing  could  stand  in  the 
way  of  its  gratification.  Whatever  happened,  I  must 
have  water.  It  was  not  thirst,  nor  yet  a  purpose  to 
allay  the  very  real  physical  burning  of  which  I  was 
now  dimly  conscious;  but  a  craving  for  the  liquid  it 
self  as  something  apart  from  and  unconnected  with 
anything  else.  Without  hesitation,  and  as  though  it 
were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  I  vaulted 
the  rail  to  cast  myself  into  the  ocean.  I  dimly  remem 
ber  a  last  flying  impression  of  a  furnace  of  light,  then 
a  great  shock  thudded  through  me,  and  I  lost  con 
sciousness. 


PART    THREE 
THE    MAROON 


I 

IN   THE   WARDROOM 

OVER  the  wardroom  of  the  Wolverine  had  fallen  a 
silence.  It  held  after  Slade  had  finished.  Captain 
Parkinson,  stiff  and  erect  in  his  chair,  staring  fixedly 
at  a  spot  two  feet  above  the  reporter's  head,  seemed 
to  weigh,  as  a  judge  weighs,  the  facts  so  picturesquely 
set  forth.  Dr.  Trendon,  his  sturdy  frame  half  in 
shadow,  had  slouched  far  down  into  himself.  Only 
the  regard  of  his  keen  eyes  fixed  upon  Slade's  face, 
unwaveringly  and  a  bit  anxiously,  showed  that  he  was 
thinking  of  the  narrator  as  well  as  of  the  narrative. 
The  others  had  fallen  completely  under  the  spell  of  the 
tale.  They  sat,  as  children  in  a  theatre,  absorbed,  for 
getful  of  the  world  around  them,  wrapped  in  a  more 
vivid  element.  At  the  close,  they  stirred  and  blinked, 
half  dazed  by  the  abrupt  fall  of  the  curtain. 

Slade  had  told  his  story  with  fire,  with  something 
of  passion,  even.  Now  he  felt  the  sharp  reflex.  He 
muttered  uncertainly  beneath  his  breath  and  glanced 
from  one  to  another  of  the  circled  faces. 

"That's  all,"  he  said  unsteadily. 

There  passed  through  the  group  a  stir  and  a 
murmur.  Someone  broke  into  sharp  coughing.  Chairs, 
shoved  back,  grated  on  the  floor. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  extraordinary "  began  a  voice, 

ruminatingly,  and  broke  short  off,  as  if  abashed  at  its 
own  infraction  of  the  silence. 

211 


212  THE    MYSTERY 

"  That's  all,"  repeated  Slade,  a  note  of  insistence 
in  his  voice.  "Why  don't  you  say  something?  Con 
found  you,  why  don't  you  say  something  ? "  His 
speech  rose  husky  and  cracked.  "  Don't  you  believe 
it?" 

"  Hold  on,"  said  the  surgeon  quietly.  "  No  need  to 
get  excited." 

"  Oh,  well,"  muttered  the  reporter,  with  a  sudden 
lapse.  "  Possibly  you  think  I'm  romancing.  It  doesn't 
matter.  I  don't  suppose  I'd  believe  it  myself,  in  your 
place." 

"  But  we're  heading  for  the  island,"  suggested  For- 
sythe. 

"That's  so,"  cried  Slade.  "Well,  that's  all  right. 
Believe  or  disbelieve  as  much  as  you  like.  Only  get 
Percy  Darrow  off  that  island.  Then  we'll  have  his 
version.  There  are  a  few  things  I  want  to  find  out 
about,  myself." 

"  There  are  several  that  promise  to  be  fairly  inter 
esting,"  said  Forsythe,  under  his  breath. 

Slade  turned  to  the  captain.  "  Have  you  any  ques 
tions  to  put  to  me,  sir?"  he  asked  formally. 

"  Just  one  moment,"  interrupted  Trendon.  "  Boy, 
a  pony  of  brandy  for  Mr.  Slade." 

The  reporter  drank  the  liquor  and  again  turned  to 
Captain  Parkinson. 

"  Only  about  our  men,"  said  the  commanding  of 
ficer,  after  a  little  thought. 

Slade  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  can't  help  you  there,  sir." 

"  Dr.  Trendon  said  that  you  knew  nothing  about 
Edwards." 


IN   THE   WARDROOM  213 

"  Edwards  ?  "  repeated  Slade  inquiringly.  His  mind, 
still  absorbed  in  the  events  which  he  had  been  relat 
ing,  groped  backward. 

Trendon  came  to  his  aid.  "  Barnett  asked  you  about 
him,  you  remember.  It  was  when  you  recovered  con 
sciousness.  Our  ensign.  Took  over  charge  of  the 
Laughing  Lass" 

"  Oh,  of  course.  I  was  a  little  dazed,  I  fancy." 

"  We  put  Mr.  Edwards  aboard  when  we  first  picked 
up  the  deserted  schooner,"  explained  the  captain. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  other.  "  My  head  doesn't 
seem  to  work  quite  right  yet.  Just  a  moment,  please." 
He  sat  silent,  with  closed  eyes.  "  You  say  you  picked 
up  the  Laughing  Lass.  When?"  he  asked  presently. 

"  Four — five — six  days  ago,  the  first  time." 

"  Then  you  put  out  the  fire." 

The  circle  closed  in  on  Slade,  with  an  unconscious 
hitching  forward  of  chairs.  He  had  fixed  his  eyes  on 
the  captain.  His  mouth  worked.  Obviously  he  was 
under  a  tensity  of  endeavour  in  keeping  his  faculties 
set  to  the  problem.  The  surgeon  watched  him,  frown 
ing. 

"  There  was  no  fire,"  said  the  captain. 

Slade  leaped  in  his  chair.  "  No  fire !  But  I  saw  her, 
I  tell  you.  When  I  went  overboard  she  was  one  living 
flame!" 

"  You  landed  in  the  small  boat.  Knocked  you  sense 
less,"  said  Trendon.  "  Concussion  of  the  brain.  Idea 
of  flame  might  have  been  a  retroactive  hallucination." 

"  Retroactive  rot,"  cried  the  other.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Dr.  Trendon.  But  if  you'd  seen  her  as  I  saw 
her Barnett !  " 


2i4  THE    MYSTERY 

He  turned  in  appeal  to  his  old  acquaintance. 

"There  was  no  fire,  Slade,"  replied  the  executive 
officer  gently.  "  No  sign  of  fire  that  we  could  find, 
except  that  the  starboard  rail  was  blistered." 

"  Oh,  that  was  from  the  volcano,"  said  Slade. 
"  That  was  nothing." 

"  It  was  all  there  was,"  returned  Barnett. 

"Just  let  me  run  this  thing  over,"  said  the  free 
lance  slowly.  "  You  found  the  schooner.  She  wasn't 
afire.  She  didn't  even  seem  to  have  been  afire.  You 
put  a  crew  aboard  under  your  ensign,  Edwards. 
Storm  separated  you  from  her.  You  picked  her  up 
again  deserted.  Is  that  right  ?  " 

"  Day  before  yesterday  morning." 

"Then,"  cried  the  other  excitedly,  "the  fire  was 
smouldering  all  the  time.  It  broke  out  and  your  men 
took  to  the  water." 

"  Impossible,"  said  Barnett. 

"  Fiddlesticks !  "  said  the  more  downright  surgeon. 

"  I  hardly  think  Mr.  Edwards  would  be  driven 
overboard  by  a  fire  which  did  not  even  scorch  his 
ship,"  suggested  the  captain  mildly. 

"  It  drove  our  lot  overboard,"  insisted  Slade.  "  Do 
you  think  we  were  a  pack  of  cowards  ?  I  tell  you,  when 
that  hellish  thing  broke  loose,  you  had  to  go.  It  wasn't 

fear.  It  wasn't  pain.  It  was What's  the  use.  You 

can't  explain  a  thing  like  that." 

"We  certainly  saw  the  glow  the  night  Billy  Ed 
wards  was — disappeared,"  mused  Forsythe. 

"  And  again,  night  before  last,"  said  the  captain. 

"What's  that!"  cried  Slade.  "Where  is  the 
Laughing  Lass?" 


IN    THE   WARDROOM  215 

"  I'd  give  something  pretty  to  know/'  said  Bar- 
nett 

"Isn't  she  in  tow?" 

"In  tow?"  said  Forsythe.  "No,  indeed.  We 
hadn't  adequate  facilities  for  towing  her.  Didn't  you 
tell  him,  Mr.  Barnett?" 

"Where  is  she,  then?"  Slade  fired  the  question  at 
them  like  a  cross-examiner. 

"  Why,  we  shipped  another  crew  under  Ives  and 
McGuire  that  noon.  We  were  parted  again,  and 
haven't  seen  them  since." 

"  God  forgive  you !  "  said  the  reporter.  "  After  the 
warnings  you'd  had,  too.  It  was — it  was " 

"  My  orders,  Mr.  Slade,"  said  Captain  Parkinson, 
with  quiet  dignity. 

"  Of  course,  sir.  I  beg  your  pardon,"  returned  the 
other.  "  But — you  say  you  saw  the  light  again?  " 

"  The  first  night  they  were  out,"  said  Barnett,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  Then  your  second  crew  is  with  your  first  crew," 
said  Slade,  shakily.  "  And  they're  with  Thrackles,  and 
Pulz  and  Solomon,  and  many  another  black-hearted 
scoundrel  and  brave  seaman.  Down  there !  " 

He  pointed  under  foot.  Captain  Parkinson  rose  and 
went  to  his  cabin.  Slade  rose,  too,  but  his  knees  were 
unsteady.  He  tottered,  and  but  for  the  swift  aid  of 
Barnett's  arm,  would  have  fallen. 

"  Overdone,"  said  Dr.  Trendon,  with  some  irrita 
tion.  "  Cost  you  something  in  strength.  Foolish  per 
formance.  Turn  in  now." 

Slade  tried  to  protest,  but  the  surgeon  would  not 
hear  of  it,  and  marched  him  incontinently  to  his 


216  THE    MYSTERY 

berth.  Returning,  Trendon  reported,  with  growls  of 
discontent,  that  his  patient  was  in  a  fever. 

"  Couldn't  expect  anything  else,"  he  fumed.  "  Pack 
of  human  interrogation  points  hounding  him  all  over 
the  place." 

"What  do  you  think  of  his  story?"  asked  For- 
sythe. 

The  grizzled  surgeon  drew  out  a  cigar,  lighted  it, 
took  three  deliberate  puffs,  turned  it  about,  examined 
the  ash  end  with  concentration,  and  replied : 

"  Man's  telling  a  straight  story." 

"You  think  it's  all  true?"  cried  Forsythe. 

"  Humph !  "  grunted  the  other.  "  He  thinks  it's  all 
true." 

An  orderly  appeared  and  knocked  at  the  captain's 
cabin. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  they  heard  him  say.  "  Mr.  Car 
ter  would  like  to  know  how  close  in  to  run.  Vol 
cano's  acting  up  pretty  bad,  sir." 

Captain  Parkinson  went  on  deck,  followed  by  the 
rest. 


II 

THE   JOLLY   ROGER 

FEELING  the  way  forward,  the  cruiser  was  soon  caught 
in  a  maze  of  cross  currents.  Hither  and  thither  she 
was  borne,  a  creature  bereft  of  volition.  Order  fol 
lowed  order  like  the  rattle  of  quick-fire,  and  was 
obeyed  with  something  more  than  the  Wolverine's 
customary  smartness.  From  the  bridge  Captain  Park 
inson  himself  directed  his  ship.  His  face  was  placid: 
his  bearing  steady  and  confident.  This  in  itself  was 
sufficient  earnest  that  the  cruiser  was  in  ticklish  case. 
For  it  was  an  axiom  of  the  men  who  sailed  under 
Parkinson  that  the  calmer  that  nervous  man  grew,  the 
more  cause  was  there  for  nervousness  on  the  part  of 
others. 

The  approach  was  from  the  south,  but  suspicious 
aspects  of  the  water  had  fended  the  cruiser  out  and 
around,  until  now  she  stood  prow-on  to  a  bold  head 
land  at  the  northwest  corner  of  the  island.  Above 
this  headland  lay  a  dark  pall  of  vapour.  In  the  shift 
ing  breeze  it  swayed  sluggishly,  heavily,  as  if  riding 
at  anchor  like  a  logy  ship  of  the  air.  Only  once  did 
it  show  any  marked  movement. 

"  It's  spreading  out  toward  us,"  said  Barnett  to 
his  fellow  officers,  gathered  aft. 

"  Time  to  move,  then,"  grunted  Trendon. 

217 


2i8  THE    MYSTERY 

The  others  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  About  as  healthful  as  prussic  acid,  those  volcanic 
gases,"  explained  the  surgeon. 

The  ship  edged  on  and  inward.  Presently  the  sing 
song  of  the  leadsman  sounded  in  measured  distinct 
ness  through  the  silence.  Then  a  sudden  activity  and 
bustle  forward,  the  rattle  of  chains,  and  the  Wolverine 
was  at  anchor.  The  captain  came  down  from  the 
bridge. 

"What  do  you  think,  Dr.  Trendon?"  he  asked. 

More  explicit  inquiry  was  not  necessary. 

The  surgeon  understood  what  was  in  his  superior's 
mind. 

"  Never  can  tell  about  volcanoes,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course,"  agreed  the  captain.  "  But — well,  do 
you  recognise  any  of  the  symptoms  ?  " 

"  Want  me  to  diagnose  a  case  of  earthquake,  sir  ?  " 
grinned  Trendon.  "  She  might  go  off  to-day,  or  she 
might  behave  herself  for  a  century." 

"Well,  it's  all  chance,"  said  the  other,  cheerfully. 
"  The  man  might  be  alive.  At  any  rate  we  must  do  our 
best  on  that  theory.  What  do  you  make  of  that  cloud 
on  the  peak  ?  " 

"  Poisonous  vapours,  I  suppose.  Thought  we'd 
have  a  chance  to  make  sure  just  now.  Seemed  to  be 
coming  right  for  us.  Wind's  shifted  it  since." 

"There  couldn't  be  anything  alive  up  there?" 

"  Not  so  much  as  a  bug,"  replied  the  doctor  posi 
tively. 

"  Yet  I  thought  when  the  vapour  lifted  a  bit  that  I 
saw  something  moving." 

"  When  was  that,  sir?  " 


THE   JOLLY    ROGER  219 

"  Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  back." 

"  We'll  see  soon  enough,  sir,"  put  in  Forsythe. 
"  The  wind  is  driving  it  down  to  the  south'ard." 

Sullenly,  reluctantly,  the  forbidding  mass  moved 
across  the  headland.  All  glasses  were  bent  upon  it. 
Without  taking  his  binocular  from  his  eyes,  Trendon 
began  to  ruminate  aloud. 

"  If  he  could  have  got  to  the  beach.  .  .  .  No 
vapour  there.  .  .  .  Signal,  though.  .  .  .  Per 
haps  he  hadn't  time.  .  .  .  And  I'd  hate  to  risk 
good  men  on  that  hell's  cauldron.  .  .  .  Just  as 
much  risk  here,  perhaps.  Only  it  seems " 

"  There  it  is,"  cried  Forsythe.  "  Look.  The  high 
est  point." 

Dull,  gray  wisps  of  murk,  the  afterguard  of  the 
gaseous  cloud,  were  twisting  and  spiraling  in  a  witch- 
dance  across  the  landscape,  and,  seen  by  snatches  and 
glimpses  through  it,  something  flapped  darkly  in  the 
breeze.  Suddenly  the  veil  parted  and  fled.  A  flag 
stood  forth  in  the  sharp  gust,  rigid,  and  appalling. 
It  was  black. 

"  The  Jolly  Roger,  by  God !  They've  come  back !  " 
exclaimed  Forsythe. 

"  And  set  up  the  sign  of  their  shop,"  added  Bar- 
nett. 

"If  they  stuck  to  their  flag — good-bye,"  observed 
Trendon  grimly. 

"  Dr.  Trendon,"  said  Captain  Parkinson,  "  you  will 
arm  yourself  and  go  with  me  in  the  gig  to  make  a 
landing." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  the  surgeon. 

"  Mr.  Barnett." 


220  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Should  we  be  overtaken  by  the  vapour  while  on 
the  highland  and  be  unable  to  get  back  to  the  beach, 
you  are  to  send  no  rescuing  party  up  there  until  the 
air  has  cleared." 

*  But,  sir,  may  we  not " 

"Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  In  case  of  an  attack  you  will  at  once  send  in  an 
other  boat  with  a  howitzer." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Dr.  Trendon,  will  you  see  Mr.  Slade  and  inquire 
of  him  the  best  point  for  landing?  " 

Trendon  hesitated. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  hardly  do  to  take  him  with 
us  ?  "  pursued  the  commanding  officer. 

"  If  he  is  roused  now,  even  for  a  moment,  I  won't 
answer  for  the  consequences,  sir,"  said  the  surgeon 
bluntly. 

"  Surely  you  can  have  him  point  out  a  landing 
place,"  said  the  captain. 

"  On  your  responsibility,"  returned  the  other,  ob 
stinately.  "  He's  under  opiate  now." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Captain  Parkinson,  after  a  time. 

Going  in,  they  saw  no  sign  of  life  along  the  shore. 
Even  the  birds  had  deserted  it.  For  the  time  the  vol 
cano  seemed  to  have  pretermitted  its  activity.  Now  and 
again  there  was  a  spurtle  of  smoke  from  the  cone,  fol 
lowed  by  subterranean  growlings,  but,  on  the  whole, 
the  conditions  were  reassuring. 

"  Penny-pop-pinwheel  of  a  volcano,  anyhow,"  re 
marked  Trendon,  disparagingly.  "  Real  man-size  erup- 


THE   JOLLY    ROGER  221 

tion  would  have  wiped  the  whole  thing  off  the  map, 
first  whack." 

As  they  drew  in,  it  became  apparent  that  they  must 
scale  the  cliff  from  the  boat.  Farther  to  the  south 
opened  out  a  wide  cove  that  suggested  easy  beaching, 
but  over  it  hung  a  cloud  of  steam. 

"  Lava  pouring  down,"  said  Trendon. 

Fortunately  at  the  point  where  the  cliff  looked  easi 
est  the  seas  ran  low.  Ropes  had  been  brought.  After 
some  dainty  manoeuvring  two  of  the  sailors  gained 
foothold  and  slung  the  ropes  so  that  the  remainder  of 
the  disembarcation  was  simple.  Nor  was  the  ascent 
of  the  cliff  a  harsh  task.  Half  an  hour  after  the  land 
ing  the  exploring  party  stood  on  the  summit  of  the 
hill,  where  the  black  flag  waved  over  a  scene  of  utter 
desolation.  The  vegetation  was  withered  to  pallid 
rags:  even  the  tiniest  weedling  in  the  rock  crevices 
had  been  poisoned  by  the  devastating  blast. 

In  the  midst  of  that  deathly  scene,  the  flag  seemed 
instinct  with  a  sinister  liveliness.  Whoever  had  set  it 
there  had  accurately  chosen  the  highest  available  point 
on  that  side  of  the  island,  the  spot  of  all  others  where  it 
would  make  good  its  signal  to  the  eye  of  any  chance 
farer  upon  those  shipless  seas.  For  the  staff  a  ten-foot 
sapling,  finely  polished,  served.  A  mound  of  rock-slabs 
supported  it  firmly.  Upon  the  cloth  itself  was  no  de 
sign.  It  was  of  a  dull  black,  the  hue  of  soot.  Captain 
Parkinson,  standing  a  few  yards  off,  viewed  it  with 
disfavour. 

"  Furl  that  flag,"  he  ordered. 

Congdon,  the  coxswain  of  the  gig,  stepped  forward 
and  began  to  work  at  the  fastenings.  Presently  he 


222  THE    MYSTERY 

turned  a  grinning  face  to  the  captain,  who  was  scan 
ning  the  landscape  through  his  glass. 

"  Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  demanded  Captain  Parkinson. 

"  Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,  that  ain't  rightly  no 
flag.  That's  what  you  might  rightly  call  a  garment, 
sir.  It's  an  undershirt,  beggin'  your  pardon." 

"  Black  undershirt's  a  new  one  to  me,"  muttered 
Trendon. 

"  No,  sir.  It  ain't  rightly  black,  look." 

Wrenching  the  object  from  its  fastenings,  he  flapped 
it  violently.  A  cloud  of  sooty  dust,  beaten  out,  spread 
about  his  face.  With  a  strangled  cry  the  sailor  cast 
the  shirt  from  him  and  rolled  in  agony  upon  the 
ground. 

"You  fool!"  cried  Trendon.  "Stand  back,  all  of 
you." 

Opening  his  medicine  case,  he  bent  over  the  racked 
sufferer.  Presently  the  man  sat  up,  pale  and  abashed. 

"  That's  how  poisonous  volcanic  gas  is,"  said  the 
surgeon  to  his  commanding  officer.  "  Only  inhaled 
remnants  of  the  dust,  too." 

"  An  ill  outlook  for  the  man  we're  seeking,"  the 
captain  mused. 

"  Dead  if  he's  anywhere  on  this  highland,"  declared 
Trendon.  "  Let's  look  at  his  flag-pole." 

He  examined  the  staff.  "  Came  from  the  beach," 
he  pronounced.  "  Waterworn.  H'm !  Maybe  he  ain't 
so  dead,  either." 

"  I  don't  quite  follow  you,  Dr.  Trendon." 

"  Why,  I  guess  our  man  has  figured  this  thing  all 
out.  Brought  this  pole  up  from  the  beach  to  plant  it 


With  a  strangled  cry  the  sailor  cast  the  shirt  from  him 


THE   JOLLY    ROGER  223 

here.  Why?  Because  this  was  the  best  observation 
point.  No  good  as  a  permanent  residence,  though. 
Planted  his  flag  and  went  back." 

"  Why  didn't  we  see  him  on  the  beach,  then?  " 

"  Did  you  notice  a  cave  around  to  the  north  ?  Good 
refuge  in  case  of  fumes." 

"  It's  worth  trying,"  said  the  captain,  putting  up 
his  glass. 

"Hold  on,  sir.  What's  this?  Here's  something. 
Look  here." 

Trendon  pointed  to  a  small  bit  of  wood  rather 
neatly  carved  to  the  shape  of  an  indicatory  finger, 
and  lashed  to  the  staff,  at  the  height  of  a  man's  face. 
The  others  clustered  around. 

"Oh,  the  devil!"  cried  Trendon.  "It  must  have 
got  twisted.  It's  pointing  straight  down." 

"  Strange  performance,"  said  the  captain.  "  How 
ever,  since  it  points  that  way — heave  aside  those  rocks, 
men." 

The  first  slab  lifted  brought  to  light  a  corner  of 
cardboard.  This,  on  closer  examination,  proved  to  be 
the  cover  of  a  book.  The  rocks  rolled  right  and  left, 
and  as  the  flag-staff,  deprived  of  its  support,  tottered 
and  fell,  the  trove  was  dragged  forth  and  handed  to 
the  captain.  While  the  ground  jarred  with  occasional 
tremors  and  the  mountain  puffed  forth  its  vaporous 
threats,  he  and  the  surgeon,  seated  on  a  rock,  gave 
themselves  with  complete  absorption  to  the  reading. 


Ill 

THE   CACHE 

OUTWARDLY  the  book  accorded  ill  with  its  surround 
ings.  In  that  place  of  desolation  and  death,  it  typified 
the  petty  neatness  of  office  processes.  Properly  placed, 
it  should  have  been  found  on  a  desk,  with  pens,  rulers, 
and  other  paraphernalia  forming  exact  angles  or  par 
allels  to  it.  It  was  a  quarto,  bound  in  marbled  paper, 
with  black  lea'ther  over  the  hinges.  No  external  label 
suggested  its  ownership  or  uses,  but  through  one  cor 
ner,  blackened  and  formidable  in  its  contrast  to  the 
peaceful  purposes  of  the  volume,  a  hole  had  been  bored. 
The  agency  of  perforation  was  obvious.  A  bullet  had 
made  it. 

"  Seen  something  of  life,  I  reckon,"  said  Trendon, 
as  the  captain  turned  the  volume  about  slowly  in  his 
hands. 

"  And  of  death,"  returned  Captain  Parkinson  sol 
emnly.  "  Do  you  know,  Trendon,  I  almost  dread  to 
open  this." 

"  Pshaw !  "  returned  the  other.  "  What  is  it  to  us  ?  " 

He  threw  the  cover  back.  Neatly  lettered  on  the  in 
side,  in  the  fine  and  slightly  angular  writing  char 
acteristic  of  the  Teutonic  scholar,  was  the  legend: 

Karl  Augustus  Schermerhorn, 
1409^    Spruce    Street, 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 
224 


THE    CACHE  225 

The  opposite  page  was  blank.  Captain  Parkinson 
turned  half  a  dozen  leaves. 

"  German !  "  he  cried,  in  a  note  of  disappointment, 
"  Can  you  read  German  script?  " 

"  After  a  fashion/'  replied  the  other.  "  Let's  see. 
Es  wonnte  seeks — und — dreissig  unterjacke"  he  read. 
"  Why,  blast  it,  was  the  man  running  a  haberdashery  ? 
What  have  three  dozen  undershirts  to  do  with  this  ?  " 

"  A  memorandum  for  outfitting,  probably,"  sug 
gested  the  captain.  "  Try  here." 

"  Chemical  formulae,"  said  Trendon.  "  Pages  of 
'em.  The  devil !  Can't  make  a  thing  of  it." 

"  Well,  here's  something  in  English." 

"  Good,"  said  the  other.  "  By  combining  the  hyper- 
sulphate  of  Indium  with  the  f times  arising  from  oxide 
of  copper  heated  to  1000  C.  and  combining  with  picric 
acid  in  the  proportions  described  in  formula  x  18,  a 
reaction,  the  nature  of  which  I  have  riot  fully  deter 
mined,  follows.  This  must  be  performed  with  extreme 
care  owing  to  the  unstable  nature  of  the  benzene  com 
pounds." 

"  Picric  acid  ?  Benzene  compounds  ?  Those  are  high 
explosives,"  said  Captain  Parkinson.  "  We  should 
have  Barnett  go  over  this." 

"  Here's  a  name  under  the  formula.  Dr.  A.  Mar- 
denter,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  That  explains  its  being  in 
English.  Probably  copied  from  a  letter." 

"  This  must  have  been  one  of  the  experiments  in 
the  valley  that  Slade  told  us  of,"  said  the  captain, 
thoughtfully.  "  Why,  see  here,"  he  cried,  with  some 
thing  like  exultation.  "That's  what  Dr.  Schermer- 
horn  was  doing  here.  He  has  the  clue  to  some  ex- 


226  THE    MYSTERY 

plosive  so  terrific  that  he  goes  far  out  of  the  -world  to 
experiment  with  its  manufacture.  For  companions  he 
chooses  a  gang  of  cutthroats  that  the  world  would 
never  miss  in  case  anything  went  wrong.  Possibly  it 
was  some  trial  of  the  finished  product  that  started  the 
eruption,  even.  Do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Don't  explain  enough,"  grunted  Trendon.  "  De 
serted  ship.  Billy  Edwards.  Mysterious  lights.  Slade 
and  his  story.  Any  explosives  in  those?  Good  enough, 
far  as  it  goes.  Don't  go  far  enough." 

"  It  certainly  leaves  gaps,"  admitted  the  other. 

He  turned  over  a  few  more  pages. 

"  Formulae,  formulae,  formulae.  What's  this  ?  Here 
are  some  marginal  annotations." 

"  Unbehasslich,"  read  Trendon.  "  Let's  see.  That 
means  *  highly  unsatisfactory,'  or  words  to  that  effect. 
Hi!  Here's  where  the  old  man  loses  his  temper.  Lis 
ten:  f  May  the  devil  take  Carroll  and  Crum  for  care 
less' — h'm — well,  'pig-dogs.'  Now,  where  do  Carroll 
and  Crum  come  in  ?  " 

"  They're  a  firm  of  analytical  chemists  in  Washing 
ton,"  said  the  captain.  "  When  I  was  on  the  ordnance 
board  I  used  to  get  their  circulars." 

"Fits  in.  What?  More  English?  Worse  than  the 
German,  this  is." 

The  writing,  beginning  evenly  enough  at  the  top  of 
a  page,  ran  along  for  a  line  or  two,  then  fell,  sprawl 
ing  in  huge,  ragged  characters  the  full  length.  Tren 
don  stumbled  among  them,  indignantly. 

"June  i,  1904,"  he  read.  "It  is  done.  Triumph. 
(German  word.)  Eureka.  Es  ist  gefullt.  From  the 
(can't  make  out  that  word)  of  the  inspiration — god- 


THE    CACHE  227 

like  power — solution  of  the  world-problems.  Why,  the 
old  fool  is  crazy!  And  his  writing  is  crazier.  Can't 
make  head  or  tail  of  it." 

The  captain  turned  several  more  pages.  They  were 
blank.  "  At  any  rate,  it  seems  to  be  the  end,"  he  said. 

"  I  should  hope  so,"  returned  the  other,  disgustedly. 

He  took  the  book  on  his  knees,  fluttering  the  leaves 
between  thumb  and  finger.  Suddenly  he  checked,  cast 
back,  and  threw  the  book  wide  open. 

"  Here  beginneth  a  new  chapter,"  said  he,  quietly. 

No  imaginable  chirography  could  have  struck  the 
eye  with  more  of  contrast  to  the  professor's  small  and 
nervous  hand.  Large,  rounded,  and  rambling,  it  filled 
the  page  with  few  and  careless  words. 

June  2,  1904.  On  this  date  I  find  myself  sole  occu 
pant  and  absolute  monarch  of  this  valuable  island.  This 
morning  I  was  a  member  of  a  community,  interesting  if 
not  precisely  peaceful.  To-night  I  am  the  last  leaf.  'All 
his  lovely  companions  are  faded  and  gone,'  the  sprightly 
Solomon,  the  psychic  Nigger,  the  amiable  Thrackles,  the 
cheerful  Perdosa,  the  genial  Pulz,  and  the  high-minded 
Eagen.  Undoubtedly  the  social  atmosphere  has  cleared; 
moreover,  I  am  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  a  landed  pro 
prietor.  Item:  several  square  miles  of  grass  land;  item: 
several  dozen  head  of  sheep;  item:  a  cove  full  of  fish; 
item:  a  handsomely  decorated  cave;  item:  a  sportive 
though  somewhat  unruly  volcano.  At  times,  it  may  be,  I 
shall  feel  the  lack  of  company.  The  seagulls  alone  are  not 
distrustful  of  me.  Undoubtedly  the  seagull  is  an  estimable 
creature,  but  he  leaves  something  to  be  desired  in  the  way 
of  companionship.  Hence  this  diary,  the  inevitable  refuge 


228  THE    MYSTERY 

of  the  empty-minded.  Materially,  I  shall  do  well  enough, 
though  I  face  one  tragic  circumstance.  My  cigarette  ma 
terial,  I  find,  is  short.  Upon  counting  up " 

"  Damn  his  cigarettes !  "  cried  the  surgeon.  "  This 
must  be  Darrow.  Finicky  beast!  Let's  see  if  it's 
signed." 

He  whirled  the  leaves  over  to  the  last  sheet,  glanced 
at  it,  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  There,  sprawled  in  tremu 
lous  characters,  as  by  a  hand  shaken  with  agony  or 
terror,  was  written: 

Look  for  me  in  the  cave. 

Percy  Darrow. 

The  bullet  hole  in  the  corner  furnished  a  sinister 
period  to  the  signature. 

Trendon  handed  the  ledger  back  to  the  captain,  who 
took  one  quick  look,  closed  it,  and  handed  it  to  Cong- 
don. 

"  Wrap  that  up  and  carry  it  carefully,"  he  said. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  the  coxswain,  swathing  it  in 
his  jacket  and  tucking  it  under  his  arm. 

"  Now  to  find  that  cave,"  said  Captain  Parkinson 
to  the  surgeon. 

"  The  cave  in  the  cliff,  of  course,"  said  Trendon. 
"  Noticed  it  coming  in,  you  know." 

"Where?" 

"  On  the  north  shore,  about  a  mile  to  the  east  of 
here." 

"  Then  we'll  cut  directly  across." 


THE   CACHE  229 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  put  in  Congdon,  "  but  I 
don't  think  we  can  make  it  from  this  side,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"  No  beach,  sir,  and  the  cliff's  like  the  side  of  a 
ship.  Looks  to  be  deep  water  right  into  the  cave's 
mouth." 

"  Back  to  the  boat,  then.  Bring  that  flag  along." 

The  descent  was  swift,  at  times  reckless,  but  the 
party  embarked  without  accident.  Soon  they  were 
forging  through  the  water  at  racing  speed,  the  boat 
leaping  to  the  impulsion  of  the  sailorman's  strongest 
motives,  curiosity  and  the  hope  of  saving  a  life. 


IV 
THE   TWIN   SLABS 

WITHIN  half  an  hour  the  gig  had  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  cave.  As  the  coxswain  had  predicted,  the  seas 
ran  into  the  lofty  entrance.  Elsewhere  the  surf  fell 
whitely,  but  through  the  arch  the  waves  rolled 
unbroken  into  a  heavy  stillness.  Only  as  the  boat 
hovered  for  a  moment  at  the  face  of  the  cliff  could  the 
exploring  party  hear,  far  within,  the  hollow  boom  that 
told  of  breakers  on  a  distant,  subterranean  beach. 

"  Run  her  in  easy,"  came  the  captain's  order. 
"  Keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  hidden  rocks." 

To  the  whispering  plash  of  the  oars  they  moved 
from  sunlight  into  twilight,  from  twilight  into  dark 
ness.  Of  a  sudden  the  oars  jerked  convulsively.  A 
great  roar  had  broken  upon  the  ears  of  the  sailors; 
the  invisible  roof  above  them,  the  water  heaving 
beneath  them,  the  walls  that  hemmed  them  in,  called, 
with  a  multiplication  of  resonance,  upon  the  name  of 
Darrow.  The  boat  quivered  with  the  start  of  its 
occupants.  Then  one  or  two  laughed  weakly  as  they 
realised  that  what  they  had  heard  was  no  supernatural 
voice.  It  was  the  captain  hailing  for  the  marooned 
man. 

No  vocal  answer  came.  But  an  indeterminable  space 
away  they  could  hear  a  low  splash  followed  by  a 
second  and  a  third.  Something  coughed  weakly  in 

230 


THE   TWIN    SLABS  231 

front  and  to  the  right.  Trendon's  hand  went  to  his 
revolver.  The  men  sat,  stiffened.  One  of  them  swore, 
in  a  whisper,  and  the  oath  came  back  upon  them, 
echoing  the  name  of  the  Saviour  in  hideous  sibilance. 

"  Silence  in  the  boat,"  said  the  captain,  in  such 
buoyant  tones  that  the  men  braced  themselves  against 
the  expected  peril. 

"  Light  the  lantern  and  pass  it  to  me/'  came  the 
order.  "  Keep  below  the  gunwale,  men." 

As  the  match  spluttered :  "  Do  you  see  something, 
a  few  rods  to  port?"  asked  the  captain  in  Trendon's 
ear. 

"  Pair  of  green  lights,"  said  Trendon.  "  Eyes. 
Seals! " 

"  Seals!  Seals!  Seals! "  shouted  the  walls,  for  the 
surgeon  had  suddenly  released  his  voice.  And  as  the 
mockery  boomed,  the  green  lights  disappeared  and 
there  was  more  splashing  from  the  distance.  The  crew 
sat  up  again. 

The  lantern  spread  its  radiance.  It  was  reflected 
from  battlements  of  fairy  beauty.  Everywhere  the 
walls  were  set,  as  with  gems,  in  broad  wales  of  varied 
and  vivid  hues.  Dazzled  at  first,  the  explorers  soon 
were  able  to  discern  the  general  nature  of  the  subter 
ranean  world  which  they  had  entered.  In  most  places 
the  walls  rose  sheer  and  unscaleable  from  the  water. 
In  others,  turretted  rocks  thrust  their  gleaming  crags 
upward.  Over  to  starboard  a  little  beach  shone  with 
Quaker  greyness  in  that  spectacular  display.  The  end 
of  the  cavern  was  still  beyond  the  area  of  light. 

"  Must  have  been  a  swimmer  to  get  in  here,"  com 
mented  Trendon,  glancing  at  the  walls. 


232  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Unless  he  had  a  boat,"  said  the  captain.  "  But 
why  doesn't  he  answer?  " 

"  Better  try  again.  No  telling  how  much  more  there 
is  of  this." 

The  surgeon  raised  his  ponderous  bellow,  and  the 
cave  roared  again  with  the  summons.  Silence,  for 
midable  and  unbroken,  succeeded. 

"  House  to  house  search  is  now  in  order,"  he  said. 
"  Must  be  in  here  somewhere — unless  the  seals  got 
him." 

Cautiously  the  boat  moved  forward.  Once  she 
grazed  on  a  half  submerged  rock.  Again  a  tiny  islet 
loomed  before  her.  Scattered  bones  glistened  on  the 
rocky  shore,  but  they  were  not  human  relics.  Occa 
sional  beaches  tempted  a  landing,  but  all  of  these  led 
back  to  percipitous  cliffs  except  one,  from  the  side  of 
which  opened  two  small  caves.  Into  the  first  the 
lantern  cast  its  glare,  revealing  emptiness,  for  the 
arch  was  wide  and  the  cave  shallow.  The  entrance 
to  the  other  was  so  narrow  as  to  send  a  visitor  to  his 
knees.  But  inside  it  seemed  to  open  out.  Moreover, 
there  were  fish  bones  at  the  entrance.  The  captain, 
the  surgeon,  and  Congdon,  the  coxswain,  landed. 
Captain  Parkinson  reached  the  spot  first.  Stooping, 
he  thrust  his  head  in  at  the  orifice.  A  sharp  exclama 
tion  broke  from  him.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  turning  a 
contorted  face  to  the  others. 

"  Poisonous,"  he  cried. 

"  More  volcano,"  said  Trendon.  He  bent  to  the 
black  hole  and  sniffed  cautiously. 

"  I'll  go  in,  sir,"  volunteered  Congdon.  "  I've  had 
fire-practice." 


THE    TWIN    SLABS  233 

"  My  business,"  said  Trendon,  briefly.  "  Decompo 
sition;  unpleasant,  but  not  dangerous." 

Pushing  the  lantern  before  him,  he  wormed  his 
way  until  the  light  was  blotted  out.  Presently  it  shone 
forth  from  the  funnel,  showing  that  the  explorer  had 
reached  the  inner  open  space.  Captain  Parkinson 
dropped  down  and  peered  in,  but  the  evil  odour  was 
too  much  for  him.  He  retired,  gagging  and  coughing. 
Trendon  was  gone  for  what  seemed  an  interminable 
time.  His  superior  officer  fidgetted  uneasily.  At  last 
he  could  stand  it  no  longer. 

"  Dr.  Trendon,  are  you  all  right  ?  "  he  shouted. 

"  Yup,"  answered  a  choked  voice.  "  Cubbing  oud 
dow." 

Again  the  funnel  was  darkened.  A  pair  of  feet  ap 
peared  ;  then  the  surgeon's  chunky  trunk,  his  head,  and 
the  lantern.  Once,  twice,  and  thrice  he  inhaled  deeply. 

"  Phew !  "  he  gasped.  "  Thought  I  was  tough,  but 
— Phee-ee-ee-ew !  " 

"  Did  you  find " 

"  No,  sir.  Not  Darrow.  Only  a  poor  devil  of  a  seal 
that  crawled  in  there  to  die." 

The  exploration  continued.  Half  a  mile,  as  they 
estimated,  from  the  open,  they  reached  a  narrow  beach, 
shut  off  by  a  perpendicular  wall  of  rock.  Skirting  this, 
they  returned  on  the  other  side,  minutely  examining 
every  possible  crevice.  When  they  again  reached  the 
light  of  day,  they  had  arrived  at  the  certain  conclusion 
that  no  living  man  was  within  those  walls. 

"  Would  a  corpse  rise  to  the  surface  soon  in  waters 
such  as  these,  Dr.  Trendon?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  Might,  sir.  Might  not.   No  telling  that." 


234  THE    MYSTERY 

The  captain  ruminated.  Then  he  beat  his  fist  on 
his  knee. 

"The  other  cave!" 

"  What  other  cave  ?  "  asked  the  surgeon. 

"  The  cave  where  they  killed  the  seals." 

"Surely!"  exclaimed  Trendon.  "Wait,  though. 
Didn't  Slade  say  it  was  between  here  and  the  point?  " 

"  Yes.  Beyond  the  small  beach." 

"  No  cave  there,"  declared  the  surgeon  positively. 

"  There  must  be.  Congdon,  did  you  see  an  opening 
anywhere  in  the  cliff  as  we  came  along  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  This  is  the  only  one,  sir." 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  said  the  captain,  grimly. 
"  Head  her  about.  Skirt  the  shore  as  near  the  break 
ers  as  you  safely  can." 

The  gig  retraced  its  journey. 

"  There's  the  beach,  as  Slade  described  it,"  said 
Captain  Parkinson,  as  they  came  abreast  of  the  little 
reach  of  sand. 

"  And  what  are  those  two  bird-roosts  on  it  ?  "  asked 
Trendon.  "  See  'em  ?  Dead  against  that  patch  of  shore- 
weed." 

"  Bits  of  wreckage  fixed  in  the  sand." 

"Don't  think  so,  sir.  Too  well  matched." 

"  We  have  no  time  to  settle  the  matter  now,"  said 
the  captain  impatiently.  "  We  must  find  that  cave,  if 
it  is  to  be  found." 

Hovering  just  outside  the  final  drag  of  the  surf, 
under  the  skilful  guidance  of  Congdon,  the  boat 
moved  slowly  along  the  line  of  beach  to  the  line  of 
cliff.  All  was  open  as  the  day.  The  blazing  sun 
picked  out  each  detail  of  jut  and  hollow.  Evidently  the 


THE    TWIN    SLABS  235 

poisonous  vapours  from  the  volcano  had  not  spread 
their  blight  here,  for  the  face  of  the  precipice  was 
bright  with  many  flowers.  So  close  in  moved  the  boat 
that  its  occupants  could  even  see  butterflies  fluttering 
above  the  bloom.  But  that  which  their  eager  eyes 
sought  was  still  denied  them.  No  opening  offered  in 
that  smiling  cliff-side.  Not  by  so  much  as  would  admit 
a  terrier  did  the  mass  of  rock  and  rubble  gape. 

"  And  Slade  described  the  cave  as  big  enough  to 
ram  the  Wolverine  into,"  muttered  Trendon. 

Up  to  the  point  of  the  headland,  and  back,  passed 
the  boat.  Blank  disappointment  was  the  result. 

"  What  is  your  opinion  now,  Dr.  Trendon?  "  asked 
the  captain  of  the  older  man. 

"  Don't  know,  sir,"  answered  the  surgeon  hopelessly. 
"  Looks  as  if  the  cave  might  have  been  a  hallucina 
tion." 

"  I  shall  have  something  to  say  to  Mr.  Slade  on 
our  return,"  said  the  captain  crisply.  "  If  the  cave  was 
an  hallucination,  as  you  suggest,  the  seal-murder  was 
fiction." 

"  Looks  so,"  agreed  the  other. 

"  And  the  murder  of  the  captain.  How  about 
that?" 

"  And  the  mutiny  of  the  men,"  added  the  surgeon. 

"  And  the  killing  of  the  doctor.  Your  patient  seems 
to  be  a  romantic  genius." 

"  And  the  escape  of  Darrow.  Hold  hard,"  quoth 
Trendon.  "  Darrow's  no  romance.  Nothing  fictional 
about  the  flag  and  ledger." 

"  True  enough,"  said  the  captain,  and  fell  to  con 
sideration. 


236  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Anyway/*  said  Trendon  vigorously,  "  I'd  like  to 
have  a  look  at  those  bird-roosts.  Mighty  like  sign 
posts,  to  my  mind." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  captain.  "  It'll  cost  us  only 
a  wetting.  Run  her  in,  Congdon." 

With  all  the  coxswain's  skill,  and  the  oarsmen's 
technique,  the  passage  of  the  surf  was  a  lively  one, 
and  little  driblets  of  water  marked  the  trail  of  the 
officers  as  they  shuffled  up  the  beach. 

The  two  slabs  stood  less  than  fifty  yards  beyond 
high  water  tide.  Nearing  them,  the  visitors  saw  that 
each  marked  a  mound,  but  not  until  they  were  close 
up  could  they  read  the  neat  carving  on  the  first.  It  ran 
as  follows: 

Here  lies 

SOLOMON  ANDERSON 

alias 

HANDY   SOLOMON 

who  murdered  his  employer, 
his  captain,  and  his  ship 
mates,  and  was  found,  dead 
of  his  deserts,  on  these  shores, 
June  5,  1904. 

This  slab  is  erected  as  a 
memento  of  admiring  esteem 

by 
the  last  of  his  victims. 

"And    you    can    kiss    the 
Book  on  that." 

"  Percy  Darrow  fecit"  said  the  surgeon.  "  You  can 
kiss  the  Book  on  that,  too." 

"  Then  Slade  was  telling  the  truth !  " 


The  finding  of  the  two  slabs 


THE    TWIN    SLABS  237 

"  Apparently.  Seems  good  corroboration." 
The  captain  turned  to  the  other  mound.  Its  slab 
was  carved  by  the  same  hand. 


Sacred  to  the  memory  of  an 
Ensign  of  the  U.  S.  Navy, 
whose  body,  washed  upon  this 
coast,  is  here  buried  with  all 
reverence,  by  strange  hands; 
whose  soul  may  God  rest. 
"  The  seas  shall  sing  his 
requiem."  June  the  Sixth, 
MXMIV. 


"  Billy  Edwards,"  said  the  captain,  very  low. 

He  uncovered.  The  surgeon  did  likewise.  So,  for 
a  space,  they  stood  with  bared  heads  between  the  twin 
graves. 


THE    PINWHEEL   VOLCANO 

THE  surgeon  spoke  first. 

"  Another  point,"  said  he.  "  Darrow  was  alive 
within  a  few  days." 

Captain  Parkinson  turned  slowly  away  from  the 
grave.  "  You  are  right,"  he  said,  with  an  effort.  "  Our 
business  is  with  the  living  now.  The  dead  must  wait." 

"  Hide  and  seek,"  growled  Trendon.  "  If  he's  here 
why  don't  he  show  himself?" 

The  other  shook  his  head. 

"  Place  is  all  trampled  up  with  his  footprints,"  said 
Trendon.  "  He's  plodded  back  and  forth  like  a  pris 
oner  in  a  cell." 

"  The  ledger,"  said  the  captain.  "  I'd  forgotten  it. 
That  grave  drove  everything  else  out  of  my  mind." 

"  Bring  the  book  here/'  called  Trendon. 

Congdon  unwrapped  it  from  his  jacket  and  handed 
it  to  him.  The  sailors  cast  curious  glances  at  the  two 
headstones. 

"  Mount  guard  over  Mr.  Edwards's  grave,"  com 
manded  the  captain. 

The  coxswain  saluted  and  gave  an  order.  One  of 
the  sailors  stepped  forward  to  the  first  mound. 

"  Not  that  one,"  rasped  the  officer.  "  The  other." 

The  man  saluted  and  moved  on. 

"  With  your  permission,  sir,"  said  Trendon. 

238 


THE    PINWHEEL   VOLCANO          239 

On  a  nod  from  his  superior  officer  he  opened  the 
ledger  and  took  up  Barrow's  record. 
"  Here  it  is.  Entry  of  June  3d." 

"Everything  lovely.  Schooner  lost  to  sight.  Query 
— to  memory  dear?  Not  exactly.  Though  I  shouldn't 
mind  having  her  under  orders  for  a  feiu  days.  Queer 
glow  in  the  sky  last  night:  if  they've  been  investigating 
they  may  have  got  what's  coming  to  them.  Volcano 
exhibiting  fits  of  temper.  Spouted  out  considerable  fire 
about  nine  o'clock.  Quite  spectacular,  but  no  harm  done. 
Can  foresee  short  rations  of  tobacco.  Lava  in  valley  still 
too  hot  for  comfort.  No  sign  of  Dr.  Schermerhorn. 
Still  sleep  on  beach. 

"  Not  much  there,"  sniffed  Trendon. 
"  Go  on,"  said  the  captain. 

"June  3.  Evening.  Thick  and  squally  weather  again. 
Local  atmospheric  conditions  seem  upset.  Volcano  still 
leading  strenuous  life.  Climbed  the  headland  this  after 
noon.  Wind  very  shifty.  Got  an  occasional  whiff  of 
volcanic  output.  One  in  particular  would  have  sent  a 
skunk  to  the  camphor  bottle.  No  living  on  the  headland. 
Will  explore  cave  to-morrow  with  a  view  to  domicile. 
Have  come  down  to  an  allowance  of  seven  cigarettes  per 
diem. 

"June  4.  Explored  cave  to-day.  Full  of  dead  seals. 
Not  only  dead,  but  all  bitten  and  cut  to  pieces.  Must 
have  been  lively  doings  in  Seal-Town.  Not  much  choice 
between  air  in  the  cave  and  vapours  from  the  volcano. 
Barring  seals,  everything  suitable  for  light  housekeeping, 
such  as  mine.  Undertook  to  clean  house.  Dragged  late 
lamented  out  into  the  water.  Some  sank  and  were  swept 


240  THE    MYSTERY 

away  by  the  sea-puss.  Others,  I  regret  to  say,  floated. 
Found  trickle  of  fresh  water  in  depth  of  cave,  and  little 
sand-ledge  to  sleep  on.  So  far,  so  good:  we  may  be 
'appy  yet.  If  only  I  had  my  cigarette  supply.  Once 
heard  a  botanist  say  that  leaves  of  the  white  shore-willow 
made  fair  substitute  for  tobacco.  Fair  substitute  for  nux 
vomica!  Would  like  to  interview  said  botanist. 

"  The  fellow  is  a  tobacco  maniac/'  growled  Tren- 
don,  feeling  in  his  breast  pocket.  "The  devil,"  he 
cried,  bringing  forth  an  empty  hand. 

Silently  the  captain  handed  him  a  cigar.  "  Thank 
you,  sir,"  he  said,  lighted  it,  and  continued  reading. 

"June  5.  Had  a  caller  to-day.  Climbed  the  headland 
this  morning.  Found  volcano  taking  a  day  off.  Looking 
for  sign  of  Laughing  Lass,  noticed  something  heliograph- 
ing  to  me  from  the  waves  beyond  the  reef.  Seemed  to 
be  metal.  I  guessed  a  tin  can.  Caught  in  the  swirl,  it 
rounded  the  cape,  and  I  came  down  to  the  shore  to  meet 
it.  Halfway  down  the  cliff  I  had  a  better  view.  I  saw 
it  was  not  a  tin  can.  There  was  a  dark  bodv  under  it, 
which  the  waves  were  tossing  about,  and  as  the  metal 
moved  with  the  body,  it  glinted  in  the  sun.  Suddenly  it 
was  borne  in  upon  me  that  an  arm  was  doing  the  sig 
nalling,  waving  to  me  with  a  sprightly,  even  a  jocular 
friendliness.  Then  I  saiv  what  it  really  was.  It  was 
Handy  Solomon  and  his  steel  hook.  He  was  riding  quite 
high.  Every  now  and  again  he  would  bow  and  wave. 
He  grounded  gently  on  the  sand  beach.  I  planted  him 
promptly.  Firstf  however,  I  removed  a  bag  of  tobacco 
from  his  pocket.  Poor  stuff,  and  water  soaked,  but  still 
tobacco.  Spent  a  quiet  afternoon  carving  a  headstone 
for  the  dear  departed.  Pity  it  were  that  virtues  so  shin- 


THE    PINWHEEL    VOLCANO          241 

ing  should  be  uncommemorated.  Idle  as  the  speculation 
is,  I  wonder  who  my  next  visitor  will  be.  Thrackles,  I 
hope.  Evidently  some  of  them  have  been  playing  the 
part  of  Pandora.  Spent  last  night  in  the  cave.  Air 
quite  fresh. 

"June  6.  Saw  the  glow  again  last  night. 

The  surgeon  paused  in  his  reading.  "  That  would 
be  the  night  of  the  5th:  the  night  before  we  picked 
her  up  empty." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Captain  Parkinson.  "  That  was  the 
night  Billy  Edwards Go  on." 

"  Saw  the  glow  again  last  night.  Don't  understand  it. 
Once  should  have  been  enough  for  them.  This  matter 
of  hoarding  tobacco  may  be  a  sad  error.  If  Old  Spitfire 
keeps  on  the  way  she  has  to-day  I  shan't  need  much  more. 
It  would  be  a  raw  jest  to  be  burned  or  swallowed  up  with 
a  month's  supply  of  unsmoked  cigarettes  on  one.  Cave 
getting  shaky.  Still,  I  think  I'll  stick  there.  As  between 
being  burned  alive  and  buried  alive,  I'm  for  the  respecta 
ble  and  time  honoured  fashion  of  interment.  Bombard 
ment  was  mostly  to  the  east  to-day,  but  no  telling  when 
it  may  shift. 

"  June  7.  This  morning  I  found  a  body  rolling  in  the 
surf.  It  was  the  body  of  a  young  man,  large  and  strongly 
built,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  an  ensign  of  our  navy. 
Surely  a  strange  visitor  to  these  shores!  There  was  no 
mark  of  identification  upon  him  except  a  cigarette  case 
graven  with  an  undecipherable  monogram  in  Tiffany's 
most  illegible  style  of  arrow-headed  inscription.  This  I 
buried  with  him,  and  staked  the  grave  with  a  headboard. 
An  officer  and  a  gentleman,  a  youth  of  friendly  ways  and 


242  THE    MYSTERY 

kindly  living,  if  one  may  judge  by  the  face  of  the  dead; 
and  he  comes  by  the  same  end  to  the  same  goal  as  Handy 
Solomon.  Why  not?  And  why  should  one  philosophise 
in  a  book  that  will  never  be  read?  Hold  on!  Perhaps — 
just  perhaps — it  may  be  read.  The  officer  was  not  long 
dead.  Ensigns  of  the  U.  S.  navy  do  not  wander  about 
untraversed  waters  alone.  There  must  be  a  warship 
somewhere  in  the  vicinity.  But  why,  then,  an  unburied 
officer  floating  on  the  ocean f  I  will  smoke  upon  this, 
luxuriously  and  plentifully.  (Later.)  No  use.  I  can't 
solve  it.  But  one  thing  I  do.  I  put  up  a  signal  pole  on 
the  headland  and  cache  this  record  under  it  this  afternoon. 
From  day  to  day,  with  the  kindly  permission  of  the  vol 
cano,  I  will  add  to  it.  .  .  .  Bad  doings  by  Old  Spitfire. 
The  cloud  is  coming  down  on  me.  Also  seems  to  be 
moving  along  the  cliff.  I  will  retire  hastily  to  my  private 
estate  in  the  cave. 

"That's  all,  except  the  scrawl  on  the  last  page," 
said  Trendon.  "  Some  action  of  the  volcano  scared 
him  off.  He  just  had  time  to  scrawl  that  last  message 
and  drop  the  book  into  the  cache.  The  question  is,  did 
he  get  back  alive  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  it,"  said  the  captain.  "  We  will  search  the 
headland  for  his  body." 

"  But  the  cave,"  insisted  the  surgeon.  "  We  ought 
to  have  found  some  sign  of  him  there." 

"  Slade  is  the  solution,"  said  the  captain.  "  We  must 
ask  him." 

They  put  back  to  the  ship.  Barnett  was  anxiously 
awaiting  them. 

"Your  patient  has  been  in  a  bad  way,  Dr.  Tren 
don,"  he  said. 


THE    PINWHEEL   VOLCANO          243 

"What's  wrong?"  asked  Trendon,  frowning. 

"  He  came  up  on  deck,  wild-eyed  and  staggering. 
There  was  a  sheet  of  paper  in  his  hand  which  seemed 
to  have  some  bearing  on  his  trouble.  When  he  found 
you  had  gone  to  the  island  without  him  he  began  to 
rage  like  a  maniac.  I  had  to  have  him  carried  down 
by  force.  In  the  rumpus  the  paper  disappeared.  I  as 
sumed  the  responsibility  of  giving  him  an  opiate." 

"  Quite  right,"  approved  Trendon.  "  I'll  go  down. 
Will  you  come  with  me,  sir  ?  "  he  said  to  the  captain. 

They  found  Slade  in  profound  slumber. 

"  Won't  do  to  wake  him  now,"  growled  Trendon. 
"Hello,  what's  here?" 

Lying  in  the  hollow  of  the  sick  man's  right  hand, 
where  it  had  been  crushed  to  a  ball,  was  a  crumpled 
mass  of  tracing  paper.  Trendon  smoothed  it  out, 
peered  at  it  and  passed  it  to  the  captain. 

"  It's  a  sketch  of  an  Indian  arrow-head,"  he  ex 
claimed  in  surprise,  at  the  first  glance.  "  What  are  all 
these  marks  ?  " 

"  Map  of  the  island,"  barked  Trendon.  "  Look 
here." 

The  drawing  was  a  fairly  careful  one,  showing  such 
geographical  points  as  had  been  of  concern  to  the  two- 
year  inhabitants.  There  was  the  large  cavern,  indi 
cated  as  they  had  found  it,  and  at  a  point  between  it 
and  the  headland  the  legend,  "  Seal  Cave." 

"  But  it's  wrong,"  cried  Captain  Parkinson,  setting 
finger  to  the  spot.  "  We  passed  there  twice.  There's 
no  opening." 

"  No  guarantee  that  there  may  not  have  been,"  re 
turned  the  other.  "  This  island  has  been  considerably 


244  THE    MYSTERY 

shaken  up  lately.  Entrance  may  have  been  closed  by 
a  landslide  down  the  cliff.  Noticed  signs  myself,  but 
didn't  think  of  it  in  connection  with  the  cave." 

"  That's  work  for  Barnett,  then,"  said  the  captain, 
brightening.  "  We'll  blow  up  the  whole  face  of  the 
cliff,  if  necessary,  but  we'll  get  at  that  cave." 

He  hurried  out.  Order  followed  order,  and  soon 
the  gig,  with  the  captain,  Trendon,  and  the  torpedo 
expert,  was  driving  for  the  point  marked  "  Seal  Cave  " 
on  the  map  over  which  they  were  bent. 


VI 

MR.   DARROW   RECEIVES 

"You  say  the  last  entry  is  June  7th ?"  asked  Bar- 
nett,  as  the  boat  entered  the  light  surf. 

Trendon  nodded. 

"  That  was  the  night  we  saw  the  last  glow,  and  the 
big  burst  from  the  volcano,  wasn't  it?" 

"  Right." 

"  The  island  would  have  been  badly  shaken  up." 

"  Not  so  violently  but  that  the  flag-pole  stood,"  said 
the  captain. 

"  That's  true,  sir.  But  there's  been  a  good  deal  of 
volcanic  gas  going.  The  man's  been  penned  up  for 
four  days." 

"  Give  the  fellow  a  chance/'  growled  Trendon. 
"  Air  may  be  all  right  in  the  cave.  Good  water  there, 
too.  Says  so  himself.  By  Slade's  account  he's  a  pretty 
capable  citizen  when  it  comes  to  looking  after  himself. 
Wouldn't  wonder  if  we'd  find  him  fit  as  a  fiddle." 

"  There  was  no  clue  to  Ives  and  McGuire  ?  "  asked 
Barnett  presently. 

"  None."  It  was  the  captain  who  answered. 

The  gig  grated,  and  the  tide  being  high,  they  waded 
to  the  base  of  the  cliff,  Barnett  carrying  his  precious 
explosives  aloft  in  his  arms. 

"  Here's  the  spot,"  said  the  captain.  "  See  where 
the  water  goes  in  through  those  crevices." 

"  Opening  at  the  top,  too,"  said  Trendon. 

245 


246  THE    MYSTERY 

He  let  out  his  bellow,  roaring  Darrow's  name. 

"  I  doubt  if  you  could  project  your  voice  far  into 
a  cave  thus  blocked,"  said  Captain  Parkinson.  "  We'll 
try  this." 

He  drew  his  revolver  and  fired.  The  men  listened 
at  the  crevices  of  the  rock.  No  sound  came  from 
within. 

"  Your  enterprise,  Mr.  Barnett,"  said  the  com 
mander,  with  a  gesture  which  turned  over  the  conduct 
of  the  affair  to  the  torpedo  expert. 

Barnett  examined  the  rocks  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Looks  like  moderately  easy  stuff,"  he  observed. 
"  See  how  the  veins  run.  You  could  almost  blow  a 
design  to  order  in  that." 

"Yes;  but  how  about  bringing  down  the  whole 
cave?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  there's  always  an  element  of  un 
certainty  when  you're  dealing  with  high  explosives," 
admitted  the  expert.  "  But  unless  I'm  mistaken,  we 
can  chop  this  out  as  neat  as  with  an  axe." 

Dropping  his  load  of  cartridges  carelessly  upon  a 
flat  rock  which  projected  from  the  water,  he  busied 
himself  in  a  search  along  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Pres 
ently,  with  an  "  Ah,"  of  satisfaction,  he  climbed 
toward  a  hand's  breadth  of  platform  where  grew  a 
patch  of  purple  flowers. 

"  Throw  me  up  a  knife,  somebody,"  he  called. 

"  Take  notice,"  said  Trendon,  good-naturedly,  "  that 
I'm  the  botanist  of  this  expedition." 

"  Oh,  you  can  have  the  flowers.  All  I  want  is  what 
they  grow  in." 

Loosening  a  handful  of  the  dry  soil,  he  brought  it 


MR.    DARROW    RECEIVES  247 

down  and  laid  it  with  the  explosives.  Next  he  called 
one  of  the  sailors  to  "  boost "  him,  and  was  soon 
perched  on  the  flat  slant  of  a  huge  rock  which  formed, 
as  it  were,  the  keystone  to  the  blockade. 

"  Let's  see/'  he  ruminated.  "  We  want  a  slow 
charge  for  this.  One  that  will  exert  a  widespread 
pressure  without  much  shattering  force.  The  No.  3, 
I  think." 

"How  is  that,  Mr.  Barnett?"  asked  the  captain, 
with  lively  interest. 

"  You  see,  sir,"  returned  the  demonstrator,  perched 
high,  like  a  sculptor  at  work  on  some  heroic  master 
piece,  "  what  we  want  is  to  split  off  this  rock."  He 
patted  the  flank  of  the  huge  slab.  "  There's  a  lovely 
vein  running  at  an  angle  inward  from  where  I  sit. 
Split  that  through,  and  the  rock  should  roll,  of  its 
own  weight,  away  from  the  entrance.  It's  held  only 
by  the  upper  projection  that  runs  under  the  arch  here." 

"  Neat  programme,"  commented  Trendon,  with  a 
tinge  of  sardonic  scepticism. 

"  Wait  and  see,"  retorted  Barnett  blithely,  for  he 
was  in  his  element  now.  "  I'll  appoint  you  my  assist 
ant.  Just  toss  me  up  that  cartridge:  the  third  one  on 
the  left." 

The  surgeon  recoiled. 

"  Supposing  you  don't  catch  it?" 

"  Well,  supposing  I  don't." 

"It's  dynamite,  isn't  it?" 

"  Something  of  the  same  nature.  Joveite,  it's 
called." 

Still  the  surgeon  stared  at  him.  Barnett  laughed. 

"  Oh,  you've  got  the  high  explosives  superstition," 


248  THE    MYSTERY 

he  said  lightly.  "  Dynamite  don't  go  off  as  easy  as 
people  think.  You  could  drop  that  stuff  from  the  cliff- 
head  without  danger.  Have  I  got  to  come  down  for 
it?" 

With  a  wry  face  Trendon  tossed  up  the  package. 
It  was  deftly  caught. 

"  Now  wet  that  dirt  well.  Put  it  in  the  canvas  bag 
yonder,  and  send  one  of  the  men  up  with  it.  I'm  going 
to  make  a  mud  pie." 

Breaking  the  package  open,  he  spread  the  yellow 
powder  in  a  slightly  curving  line  along  the  rock.  With 
the  mud  he  capped  this  over,  forming  a  little  arched 
roof. 

"  To  keep  it  from  blowing  away,"  surmised 
Trendon. 

"  No;  to  make  it  blow  down  instead  of  blowing  up." 

"  Oh,  rot ! "  returned  the  downright  surgeon. 
"  That  pound  of  dirt  won't  make  the  shadow  of  a 
feather's  difference." 

"Won't  it!"  retorted  the  other.  "Curious  thing 
about  high  explosives.  A  mud-cap  will  hold  down  the 
force  as  well  as  a  ton  of  rock.  Wait  and  see  what  hap 
pens  to  the  rock  beneath." 

He  slid  off  his  perch  into  the  ankle-deep  water  and 
waded  out  to  the  boat.  Here  he  burrowed  for  a  mo 
ment,  presently  emerging  with  a  box.  This  he  carried 
gingerly  to  a  convenient  rock  and  opened.  First  he 
lifted  out  some  soft  padding.  A  small  tin  box  honey 
combed  inside  came  to  light.  With  infinite  precaution 
Barnett  picked  out  an  object  that  looked  like  a  22- 
calibre  short  cartridge,  wadded  some  cotton  batten  in 
his  hand,  set  the  thing  in  the  wadding,  laid  it  on  the 


MR.    DARROW    RECEIVES  249 

rock,  carefully  returned  the  small  box  to  the  large 
box  and  the  large  box  to  the  boat,  took  up  the  car 
tridge  again  and  waded  back  to  the  cliff.  They 
watched  him  in  silence. 

"This  is  the  little  devil,"  he  said,  indicating  his 
delicate  burden.  "  Fulminate  of  mercury.  This  is  the 
stuff  that'll  remove  your  hand  with  neatness  and  de 
spatch.  It's  the  quickest  tempered  little  article  in  the 
business.  Just  give  it  one  hard  look  and  it's  off." 

"  Here,"  said  Trendon,  "  I  resign.  From  now  on 
I'm  a  spectator." 

Barnett  swung  the  fulminate  in  his  handkerchief  and 
gave  it  to  a  sailor  to  hold.  The  man  dandled  it  like 
a  new-born  infant.  Back  to  his  rock  went  Barnett. 
Producing  some  cord,  he  let  down  an  end. 

"  Tie  the  handkerchief  on,  and  get  out  of  the  way," 
he  directed. 

With  painful  slowness  the  man  carried  out  the  first 
part  of  the  order;  the  latter  half  he  obeyed  with 
sprightly  alacrity.  Very  slowly,  very  delicately,  the 
expert  drew  in  his  dangerous  burden.  Once  a  current 
of  air  puffed  it  against  the  face  of  the  rock,  and  the 
operator's  head  was  hastily  withdrawn.  Nothing  hap 
pened.  Another  minute  and  he  had  the  tiny  shell  in 
hand.  A  fuse  was  fixed  in  it  and  it  was  shoved  under 
the  mud-cap.  Barnett  stood  up. 

"  Will  you  kindly  order  the  boat  ready,  Captain 
Parkinson?"  he  called. 

The  order  was  given. 

"  As  soon  as  I  light  the  fuse  I  will  come  down  and 
we'll  pull  out  fifty  yards.  Leave  the  rest  of  the  Joveite 
where  it  is.  All  ready?  Here  goes." 


2$o  THE    MYSTERY 

He  touched  a  match  to  the  fuse.  It  caught.  For  a 
moment  he  watched  it. 

"  Going  all  right,"  he  reported,  as  he  struck  the 
water.  "  Plenty  of  time." 

Some  seventy  yards  out  they  rested  on  their  oars. 
They  waited.  And  waited.  And  waited. 

"  It's  out,"  grunted  Trendon. 

From  the  face  of  the  cliff  puffed  a  cloud  of  dust. 
A  thudding  report  boomed  over  the  water.  Just  a 
wisp  of  whitish-grey  smoke  arose,  and  beneath  it  the 
great  rock,  with  a  gapping  seam  across  its  top,  rolled 
majestically  outward,  sending  a  shower  of  spray  on 
all  sides,  and  opening  to  their  eager  view  a  black 
chasm  into  the  heart  of  the  headland.  The  experiment 
had  worked  out  with  the  accuracy  of  a  geometric 
problem. 

"  That's  all,  sir,"  Barnett  reported  officially. 

"  Magic !  Modern  magic ! "  said  the  captain.  He 
stared  at  the  open  door.  For  the  moment  the  object 
of  the  undertaking  was  forgotten  in  the  wonder  of 
its  exact  accomplishment. 

"  Darrow'll  think  an  earthquake's  come  after  him," 
remarked  Trendon. 

"  Give  way,"  ordered  the  captain. 

The  boat  grated  on  the  sand.  Captain  Parkinson 
would  have  entered,  but  Barnett  restrained  him. 

"  It's  best  to  wait  a  minute  or  two,"  he  advised. 
"  Occasionally  slides  follow  an  explosion  tardily,  and 
the  gases  don't  always  dissipate  quickly." 

Where  they  stood  they  could  see  but  a  short  way 
into  the  cave.  Trendon  squatted  and  funnelled  his 
hands  to  one  eye. 


tf  Sorry  not  to  have  met  you  at  the  door,"  he  said  courteously 


MR.    DARROW    RECEIVES  251 

"  There's  fire  inside/'  he  said. 

In  a  moment  they  all  saw  it,  a  single,  pin-point 
glow,  far  back  in  the  blackness,  a  Cyclopean  eye,  that 
swayed  as  it  approached.  Alternately  it  waned  and 
brightened.  Suddenly  it  illuminated  the  dim  linea 
ments  of  a  face.  The  face  neared  them.  It  joined 
itself  to  reality  by  a  very  solid  pair  of  shoulders,  and 
a  man  sauntered  into  the  twilit  mouth  of  the  cavern, 
removed  a  cigarette  from  his  lips,  and  gave  them 
greeting. 

"  Sorry  not  to  have  met  you  at  the  door,"  he  said, 
courteously.  "  It  was  you  that  knocked,  was  it  not  ? 
Yes?  It  roused  me  from  my  siesta." 

They  stared  at  him  in  silence.  He  blinked  in  the 
light,  with  unaccustomed  eyes. 

"  You  will  pardon  me  for  not  asking  you  in  at  once. 
Past  circumstances  have  rendered  me — well — perhaps 
suspicious  is  not  too  strong  a  word." 

They  noticed  that  he  held  a  revolver  in  his  hand. 

Captain  Parkinson  came  forward  a  step.  The  host 
half  raised  his  weapon.  Then  he  dropped  it  abruptly. 

"  Navy  men !  "  he  said,  in  an  altered  voice.  "  I  beg 
your  pardon.  I  could  not  see  at  first.  My  name  is 
Percy  Darrow." 

"  I  am  Captain  Parkinson  of  the  United  States 
cruiser  Wolverine''  said  the  commander.  "  This  is 
Mr.  Barnett,  Mr.  Darrow.  Dr.  Trendon,  Mr.  Dar 
row." 

They  shook  hands  all  around. 

"  Like  some  damned  silly  afternoon  tea,"  Trendon 
said  later,  in  retailing  it  to  the  mess.  A  pause  fol 
lowed. 


252  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Won't  you  step  in,  gentlemen  ?  "  said  Darrow, 
"  May  I  offer  you  the  makings  of  a  cigarette?  " 

"  Wouldn't  you  be  robbing  yourself?  "  inquired  the 
captain,  with  a  twinkle. 

"  Oh,  you  found  the  diary,  then,"  said  Darrow  eas 
ily.  "  Rather  silly  of  me  to  complain  so.  But  really,  in 
conditions  like  these,  tobacco  becomes  a  serious  prob 
lem." 

"  So  one  might  imagine,"  said  Trendon  drily.  He 
looked  closely  at  Darrow.  The  man's  eyes  were  light 
and  dancing.  From  the  nostrils  two  livid  lines  ran 
diagonally.  Such  lines  one  might  make  with  a  hard 
blue  pencil  pressed  strongly  into  the  flesh.  The  sur 
geon  moved  a  little  nearer. 

"  Can  you  give  me  any  news  of  my  friend 
Thrackles?  "  asked  Darrow  lightly.  "  Or  the  esteemed 
Pulz  ?  Or  the  scholarly  and  urbane  Robinson  of  Ethi 
opian  extraction?  " 

"  Dead,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Ah,  a  pity,"  said  the  other.  He  put  his  hand  to 
his  forehead.  "  I  had  thought  it  probable."  His  face 
twitched.  "  Dead  ?  Very  good.  In  fact — really — er — 
amusing." 

He  began  to  laugh,  quite  to  himself.  It  was  not  a 
pleasant  laugh  to  hear.  Trendon  caught  and  shook 
him  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Drop  it,"  he  said. 

Darrow  seemed  not  to  hear  him.  "  Dead,  all  dead !  " 
he  repeated.  "  And  I've  outlasted  'em !  God  damn 
'em,  I've  outlasted  'em !  "  And  his  mirth  broke  forth 
in  a  strangely  shocking  spasm. 

Trendon  lifted  a  hand  and  struck  him  so  powerfully 


MR.    DARROW    RECEIVES  253 

between  the  shoulder  blades  that  he  all  but  plunged 
forward  on  his  face. 

"  Quit  it !  "  he  ordered  again.  "  Get  hold  of  your 
self!" 

Darrow  turned  and  gripped  him.  The  surgeon 
winced  with  the  pain  of  his  grasp.  "  I  can't,"  gasped 
the  maroon,  between  paroxysms.  "  I've  been  living 
in  hell.  A  black,  shaking,  shivering  hell,  for  God 
knows  how  long.  .  .  .  What  do  you  know? 
Have  you  ever  been  buried  alive?"  And  again  the 
agony  of  laughter  shook  him. 

"  This,  then,"  muttered  the  doctor,  and  the  hypo 
dermic  needle  shot  home. 

During  the  return  Darrow  lay  like  a  log  in  the  bot 
tom  of  the  gig.  The  opiate  had  done  its  work.  Con 
sciousness  was  mercifully  dead  within  him. 


VII 

THE   SURVIVORS 

REST  and  good  food  quickly  brought  Percy  Darrow 
back  to  his  normal  poise.  One  inspection  satisfied  Dr. 
Trendon  that  all  was  well  with  him.  He  asked  to  see 
the  captain,  and  that  gentleman  came  to  Ives's  room, 
which  had  been  assigned  to  the  rescued  man. 

"  I  hope  you've  been  able  to  make  yourself  comfort 
able,"  said  the  commander,  courteously. 

"  It  would  be  strange  indeed  if  I  could  not,"  re 
turned  Darrow,  smiling.  "  You  forget  that  you  have 
set  a  savage  down  in  the  midst  of  luxury." 

"  Make  yourself  free  of  Ives's  things,"  invited  Cap 
tain  Parkinson.  "  Poor  fellow ;  he  will  not  use  them 
again,  I  fear." 

"  One  of  your  men  lost?  "  asked  Darrow.  "  Ah,  the 
young  officer  whose  body  I  found  on  the  beach,  per 
haps?" 

"  No ;  but  we  have  to  thank  you  for  that  burial," 
said  the  captain. 

Darrow  made  a  swift  gesture.  "  Oh,  if  thanks  are 
going,"  he  cried,  and  paused  in  hopelessness  of  ade 
quate  expression. 

"  This  has  been  a  bitter  cruise  for  us,"  continued 
the  captain.  He  sighed  and  was  silent  for  a  moment. 
"  There  is  much  to  tell  and  to  be  told,"  he  resumed. 

"  Much,"  agreed  the  other,  gravely. 

254 


THE    SURVIVORS  255 

"  You  will  want  to  see  Slade  first,  I  presume,'*  said 
the  captain. 

"  One  of  your  officers  whom  I  have  not  yet  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  ?  " 

The  captain  stared.  "  Slade,"  he  said.  "  Ralph 
Slade." 

"  Apparently  there's  a  missing  link.  Or — I  fear  I 
was  not  wholly  myself  yesterday  for  a  time.  Possibly 
something  occurred  that  I  did  not  quite  take  in." 

"  Perhaps  we'd  better  wait,"  said  Captain  Parkin 
son,  with  obvious  misgiving.  "  You're  not  quite 
rested.  You  will  feel  more  like " 

"  If  you  don't  mind,"  said  Darrow  composedly, 
"  I'd  like  to  get  at  this  thing  now.  I'm  in  excellent 
understanding,  I  assure  you." 

"  Very  well.  I  am  speaking  of  the  man  who  acted 
as  mate  in  the  Laughing  Lass.  The  journalist  who — 
good  heavens!  What  arrant  stupidity!  I  have  to  beg 
your  pardon,  Mr.  Darrow.  It  has  just  occurred  to  me. 
He  called  himself  Eagen  with  you." 

"Eagen!  What  is  this?  Is  Eagen  alive?" 

"  And  on  this  ship.  We  picked  him  up  in  an  open 
boat." 

"  And  you  say  he  calls  himself  Slade?  " 

"  He  is  Ralph  Slade,  adventurer  and  journalist. 
Mr.  Barnett  knows  him  and  vouches  for  him." 

"  And  he  was  on  our  island  under  an  assumed 
name,"  said  Darrow  in  tones  that  had  the  smoothness 
and  the  rasp  of  silk.  "  Rather  annoying.  Not  good 
form,  quite,  even  for  a  pirate." 

"  Yet,  I  believe  he  saved  your  life,"  suggested  the 
captain. 


256  THE    MYSTERY 

Darrow  looked  up  sharply.  "  Why,  yes,"  he  ad 
mitted.  "  So  he  did.  I  had  hoped "  He  checked 

himself.  "  I  had  thought  that  all  of  the  crew  went  the 
same  way.  You  didn't  find  any  of  the  others  ?  " 

"  None." 

Darrow  got  to  his  feet.  "  I  think  I'd  like  to  see 
Eagen — Slade — whatever  he  calls  himself." 

"  I  don't  know,"  began  the  captain.  "  It  might  not 
be "  He  hesitated  and  stopped. 

Darrow  drew  back  a  little,  misinterpreting  the 
other's  attitude.  "  Do  I  understand  that  I  am  under 
restraint  ?  "  he  asked  stiffly. 

"  Certainly  not.  Why  should  you  be  ?  " 

"  Well,"  returned  the  other  contemplatively,  "  it 
really  might  be  regarded  as  a  subject  for  investiga 
tion.  Of  course  I  know  only  a  small  part  of  it.  But 
there  have  certainly  been  suspicious  circumstances. 
Piracy  there  has  been :  no  doubt  of  that.  Murder,  too, 
if  my  intuitions  are  not  at  fault.  Or  at  least,  a  dis 
appearance  to  be  accounted  for.  Robbery  can't  be  de 
nied.  And  there's  a  dead  body  or  two  to  be  properly 
accredited."  He  looked  the  captain  in  the  eye. 

"Well?" 

"  You'll  find  my  story  highly  unsatisfactory  in  de 
tail,  I  fancy.  I  merely  want  to  know  whether  I'm  to 
present  it  as  a  defence,  or  only  an  explanation." 

"  We  shall  be  glad  to  hear  your  story  when  you  are 
ready  to  tell  it — after  you  have  seen  Mr.  Slade." 

"  Thank  you/'  said  Darrow  simply.  "  You  have 
heard  his?" 

"  Yes.  It  needs  filling  in." 

"When  may  I  see  him?" 


THE   SURVIVORS  257 

"  That's  for  Dr.  Trendon  to  say.  He  came  to  us 
almost  dead.  I'll  find  out." 

The  surgeon  reported  Slade  much  better,  but  all 
a-quiver  with  excitement. 

"  Hate  to  put  the  strain  on  him,"  said  he.  "  But 
he'll  be  in  a  fever  till  he  gets  this  thing  off  his  mind. 
Send  Mr.  Darrow  to  him." 

After  a  moment's  consideration  Darrow  said :  "  I 
should  like  to  have  you  and  Dr.  Trendon  present, 
Captain  Parkinson,  while  I  ask  Eagen  one  or  two 
questions." 

"  Understand  one  thing,  Mr.  Darrow,"  said  Tren 
don  briefly.  "  This  is  not  to  be  an  inquisition." 

"  Ah,"  said  Darrow,  unmoved.  "  I'm  to  be  neither 
defendant  nor  prosecutor." 

"  You  are  to  respect  the  condition  of  Dr.  Trendon's 
patient,  sir,"  said  Captain  Parkinson,  with  emphasis. 
"  Outside  of  that,  your  attitude  toward  a  man  who  has 
twice  thought  of  your  life  before  his  own  is  for  you  to 
determine." 

No  little  cynicism  lurked  in  Darrow's  tones  as  he 
said: 

"  You  have  confidence  in  Mr.  Slade,  alias  Eagen." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Captain  Parkinson,  in  a  tone  that 
closed  that  topic. 

"  Still,  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  gentlemen  pres 
ent,  if  only  for  a  moment,"  insisted  Darrow,  pres 
ently. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well — on  account  of  the 
patient,"  said  the  surgeon  significantly. 

"  Very  well,"  assented  the  captain. 

The  three  went  to   Slade' s  cabin.    He  was  lying 


258  THE    MYSTERY 

propped  up  in  his  bunk.  Trendon  entered  first,  fol 
lowed  by  the  captain,  then  Darrow. 

"  Here's  your  prize,  Slade,"  said  the  surgeon. 

Darrow  halted,  just  inside  the  door.  With  an  eager 
light  in  his  face  Slade  leaned  forward  and  stretched 
out  his  hand. 

"  I  couldn't  believe  it  until  I  saw  you,  old  man,"  he 
cried. 

Darrow's  eyebrows  went  up.  Before  Slade  had  time 
to  note  that  there  was  no  response  to  his  outstretched 
hand,  the  surgeon  had  jumped  in  and  pushed  him 
roughly  back  upon  his  pillow. 

"  What  did  you  promise  ?  "  he  growled.  "  You  were 
to  lie  still,  weren't  you?  And  you'll  do  it,  or  out 
we  go." 

"How  are  you,  Eagen?"  drawled  Darrow. 

"Not  Eagen.  I'm  done  with  that.  They've  told 
you,  haven't  they?  " 

Darrow  nodded.  "Are  you  the  only  survivor?  "  he 
inquired. 

"  Except  yourself." 

"The  Nigger?  Pulz?  Thrackles?  The  captain?  All 
drowned  ?  " 

"  Not  the  captain.  They  murdered  him." 

"  Ah,"  said  Darrow  softly.  "  And  you — I  beg  your 
pardon — your — er — friends  disposed  of  the  doctor  in 
the  same  way?  " 

"  Handy  Solomon,"  replied  Slade  with  shaking 
lips.  "  Hell's  got  that  fiend,  if  there's  a  hell  for  human 
fiends.  They  threw  the  doctor's  body  in  the  surf." 

"  You  didn't  notice  whether  there  were  any  pa 
pers  ?  " 


THE   SURVIVORS  259 

"  If  there  were  they  must  have  been  destroyed  with 
the  body  when  the  lava  poured  down  the  valley  into 
the  sea." 

"  The  lava :  of  course/'  assented  Darrow,  with  elab 
orate  nonchalance.  "  Well,  he  was  a  kind  old  boy.  A 
cheerful,  simple,  wise  old  child." 

"  I  would  have  given  my  right  hand  to  save  him," 
cried  Slade.  "  It  was  so  sudden — so  damnable " 

"  Better  to  have  saved  him  than  me,"  said  Darrow. 
He  spoke  with  the  first  touch  of  feeling  that  he  ex 
hibited.  "  I  have  to  thank  you  for  my  life,  Eagen — I 
beg  your  pardon :  Slade.  It's  hard  to  remember." 

Dr.  Trendon  arose,  and  Captain  Parkinson  with 
him. 

"  Give  you  two  hours,  Mr.  Darrow,"  said  the  sur 
geon.  "  No  more.  If  he  seems  exhausted,  give  him 
one  of  these  powders.  I'll  look  in  in  an  hour." 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  he  returned.  Slade  was  lying 
back  on  his  pillow.  Darrow  was  talking,  eagerly,  con 
fidentially.  In  another  hour  he  came  out. 

"  The  whole  thing  is  clear,"  he  said  to  Captain 
Parkinson.  "  I  am  ready  to  report  to  you." 

"  This  evening,"  said  the  captain.  "  The  mess  will 
want  to  hear." 

"Yes,  they  will  want  to  hear,"  assented  Darrow. 
"  You've  had  Slade's  story.  I'll  take  it  up  where  he 
left  off,  and  he'll  check  me.  Mine's  as  incredible  as 
— as  Slade's  was.  And  it's  as  true." 


VIII 
THE    MAKER    OF   MARVELS 

As  they  had  gathered  to  hear  Ralph  Slade's  tale,  so 
now  the  depleted  mess  of  the  Wolverine  grouped 
themselves  for  Percy  Barrow's  sequel.  Slade  himself 
sat  directly  across  from  the  doctor's  assistant.  Be 
fore  him  lay  a  paper  covered  with  jotted  notes.  Tren- 
don  slouched  low  in  the  chair  on  Slade's  right.  Cap 
tain  Parkinson  had  the  other  side.  Convenient  to 
Barrow's  hand  lay  the  material  for  cigarettes.  As 
he  talked  he  rolled  cylinder  after  cylinder,  and  be 
tween  sentences  consumed  them  in  long,  satisfying 
puffs. 

"  First  you  will  want  to  learn  of  the  fate  of  your 
friends  and  shipmates,"  he  began.  "  They  are  dead. 
One  of  them,  Mr.  Edwards,  fell  to  my  hands  to  bury, 
as  you  know.  He  lies  beside  Handy  Solomon.  The 
others  we  shall  probably  not  see:  any  one  of  a  score 
of  ocean  currents  may  have  swept  them  far  away.  The 
last  great  glow  that  you  saw  was  the  signal  of  their 
destruction.  So  the  work  of  a  great  scientist,  a  potent 
benefactor  of  the  race,  a  gentle  and  kindly  old  heart, 
has  brought  about  the  death  of  your  friends  and  of  my 
enemies.  The  innocent  and  the  guilty  .  .  .  the 
murderer  with  his  plunder,  the  officer  following  his 
duty  .  .  .  one  and  the  same  end  ...  a  pal 
try  thing  our  vaunted  science  is  in  the  face  of  such 

260 


THE    MAKER    OF    MARVELS          261 

tangled  fates."  He  spoke  low  and  bitterly.  Then  he 
squared  his  shoulders  and  his  manner  became  busi 
nesslike. 

"  Interrupt  me  when  any  point  needs  clearing  up/' 
he  said.  "  It's  a  blind  trail  at  best.  You've  the  right 
to  see  it  as  plain  as  I  can  make  it — with  Slade's  help. 
Cut  right  in  with  your  questions :  There'll  be  plenty 
to  answer  and  some  never  will  be  answered  .  .  . 

"  Now  let  me  get  this  thing  laid  out  clearly  in  my 
own  mind.  You  first  saw  the  glow — let  me  see " 

"  Night  of  June  2d,"  said  Barnett. 

"  June  2d,"  agreed  Darrow.  "  That  was  the  end 
of  Solomon,  Thrackles  &  Co.  A  very  surprising 
end  to  them,  if  they  had  time  to  think,"  he  added 
grimly. 

"  Surprising  enough,  from  the  survivor's  view 
point,"  said  Slade. 

"  Doubtless.  They've  had  that  story  from  you ;  I 
needn't  go  over  it.  This  ship  picked  up  the  Laughing 
Lass,  deserted,  and  put  your  first  crew  aboard.  That 
night,  was  it  not,  you  saw  the  second  pillar  of  fire  ?  " 

Barnett  nodded. 

"  So  your  men  met  their  death.  Then  came  the  sec 
ond  finding  of  the  empty  schooner.  .  .  .  Cap 
tain  Parkinson,  they  must  have  been  brave  men  who 
faced  the  unknown  terrors  of  that  prodigy." 

"  They  volunteered,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  with 
simple  pride. 

Darrow  bowed  with  a  suggestion  of  reverence  in 
the  slow  movement  of  his  head.  "  And  that  night — 
or  was  it  two  nights  later? — you  saw  the  last  appear 
ance  of  the  portent.  Well,  I  shall  come  to  that.  .  .  . 


262  THE    MYSTERY 

Slade  has  told  you  how  they  lived  on  the  beach. 
With  us  in  the  valley  it  was  different.  Almost  from 
the  first  I  was  alone.  The  doctor  ceased  to  be  a 
companion.  He  ceased  to  be  human,  almost.  A  ma 
chine,  that's  what  he  was.  His  one  human  instinct 
was — well,  distrust.  His  whole  force  of  being  was  cen 
tred  on  his  discovery.  It  was  to  make  him  the  fore 
most  scientist  of  the  world;  the  foremost  individual 
entity  of  his  time — of  all  time,  possibly.  Even  to  out 
line  it  to  you  would  take  too  much  time.  Light,  heat, 
motive  power  in  incredible  degrees  and  under  such 
control  as  has  never  been  known :  these  were  to  be  the 
agencies  at  his  call.  The  push  of  a  button,  the  turn  of 
a  screw — oh,  he  was  to  be  master  of  such  power  as 
no  monarch  ever  wielded!  Riches — pshaw!  Riches 
were  the  least  of  it.  He  could  create  them,  practically. 
But  they  would  be  superfluous.  Power :  unlimited,  ab 
solute  power  was  his  goal.  With  his  end  achieved  he 
could  establish  an  autocracy,  a  dynasty  of  science: 
whatever  he  chose.  Oh,  it  was  a  rich-hued,  golden, 
glowing  dream;  a  dream  such  as  men's  souls  don't 
formulate  in  these  stale  days — not  our  kind  of  men. 
The  Teutonic  mysticism — you  understand.  And  it 
was  all  true.  Oh,  quite." 

"  Do  you  mean  us  to  understand  that  he  had  this 
power  you  describe  ?  "  asked  Captain  Parkinson. 

"  In  his  grasp.  Then  comes  a  practical  gentleman 
with  a  steel  hook.  A  follower  of  dreams,  too,  in  his 
way.  Conflicting  interests — you  know  how  it  is.  One 
well-aimed  blow  from  the  more  practical  dreamer,  and 
the  greater  vision  passes.  .  .  .  I'm  getting  ahead 
of  myself.  Just  a  moment." 


THE    MAKER    OF   MARVELS          263 

His  cigarette  glowed  fiercely  in  the  dimness  before 
he  took  up  his  tale  again. 

"  You  all  know  who  Dr.  Schermerhorn  was.  None 
of  you  know — I  don't  know  myself,  though  I've 
been  his  factotum  for  ten  years — along  how  many 
varied  lines  of  activity  that  mind  played.  One  of  them 
was  the  secret  of  energy:  concentrated,  resistless 
energy.  Man's  contrivances  were  too  puny  for  him. 
The  most  powerful  engines  he  regarded  as  toys.  For 
a  time  high  explosives  claimed  his  attention.  He 
wanted  to  harness  them.  Once  he  got  to  the  point  of 
practical  experiment.  You  can  see  the  ruins  yet :  a 
hole  in  southern  New  Jersey.  Nobody  ever  understood 
how  he  escaped.  But  there  he  was  on  his  feet  across  a 
ten-foot  fence  in  a  ploughed  field — yes,  he  flew  the 
fence — and  running,  running  furiously  in  the  opposite 
direction,  when  the  dust  cleared  away.  Someone 
stopped  him  finally.  Told  him  the  danger  was  over. 
'  Yet,  I  will  not  return/  he  said  firmly,  and  fainted 
away.  That  disgusted  him  with  high  explosives.  What 
secrets  he  discovered  he  gave  to  the  government.  They 
were  not  without  value,  I  believe." 

"  They  were  not,  indeed,"  corroborated  Barnett. 

"  Next  his  interest  turned  to  the  natural  phenomena 
of  high  energy.  He  studied  lightning  in  an  open  steel 
network  laboratory,  with  few  results  save  a  succession 
of  rheumatic  attacks,  and  an  improved  electric  inter 
rupter,  since  adopted  by  one  of  the  great  telegraph 
companies.  The  former  obliged  him  to  stop  these  ex 
periments,  and  the  invention  he  considered  trivial. 
Probably  the  great  problem  of  getting  at  the  secret 
of  energy  led  him  into  his  attempts  to  study  the  mys- 


264  THE    MYSTERY 

terious  electrical  waves  radiated  by  lightning  flashes; 
at  any  rate  he  was  soon  as  deep  into  the  subject  of 
electrical  science  as  his  countryman,  Hertz,  had  ever 
been.  He  used  to  tell  me  that  he  often  wondered  why 
he  hadn't  taken  up  this  line  before — the  world  of 
energy  he  now  set  out  to  explore,  waves  in  that  tre 
mendous  range  between  those  we  hear  and  those  we 
see.  It  was  natural  that  he  should  then  come  to  the 
most  prominent  radio-active  elements,  uranium,  tho 
rium,  and  radium.  But  though  his  knowledge  sur 
passed  that  of  the  much-exploited  authorities,  he  was 
never  satisfied  with  any  of  his  results. 

*  Pitchblende;  no! '  he  would  exclaim.  '  It  has  not 
the  great  power.  The  mines  are  not  deep  enough, 
yet!' 

"  Then  suddenly  the  great  idea  that  was  to  bring 
him  success,  and  cost  him  his  life,  came  to  him.  The 
bowels  of  the  earth  must  hold  the  secret!  He  took  up 
volcanoes.  .  .  .  Does  all  this  sound  foolish?  It 
was  not  if  you  knew  the  man.  He  was  a  mighty  en 
thusiast,  a  born  martyr.  Not  cold-blooded,  like  the 
rest  of  us.  The  fire  was  in  his  veins.  ...  A 
light,  please.  Thank  you. 

;<  We  chased  volcanoes.  There  was  a  theory  under  it 
all.  He  believed  that  volcanic  emanations  are  caused 
by  a  mighty  and  uncomprehended  energy,  something 
that  achieves  results  ascribable  neither  to  explosions 
nor  heat,  some  eternal,  inner  source.  .  .  .  Ra 
dium,  if  you  choose,  only  he  didn't  call  it  that.  Radium 
itself,  as  known  to  our  modern  scientists,  he  regarded 
as  the  harmless  plaything  of  people  with  time  hang 
ing  heavy  on  their  hands.  He  wasn't  after  force  in 


THE    MAKER    OF   MARVELS          265 

pin-point  quantities:  he  wanted  bulk  results.  Yet  I 
believe  that,  after  all,  what  he  sought  was  a  sort  of 
higher  power  of  radium.  The  phenomena  were  re 
lated.  And  he  had  some  of  that  concentrated  essence 
of  pitchblende  in  the  chest  when  we  started.  Oh,  not 
much:  say  about  twenty  thousand  dollars'  worth. 
Maybe  thirty.  For  use?  No;  rather  for  comparison, 
I  judge. 

"  Yes,  we  chased  volcanoes.  I  became  used  to  camp 
ing  between  sample  hells  of  all  known  varieties.  I  got 
so  that  the  fumes  of  a  sulphur  match  seemed  like  a 
draught  of  pure,  fresh  air.  Wherever  any  of  the 
earth's  pimples  showed  signs  of  coming  to  a  head, 
there  were  we,  taking  part  in  the  trouble.  By  and  by 
the  doctor  got  so  thoroughly  poisoned  that  he  had 
to  lay  off.  Back  to  Philadelphia  we  came.  There  an 
aged  seafaring  person,  temporarily  stranded,  mulcted 
the  Professor  of  a  dollar — an  undertaking  that  re 
quired  no  art — and  in  the  course  of  his  recital  touched 
upon  yonder  little  cesspool  of  infernal  iniquities.  An 
uncharted  volcanic  island:  one  that  he  could  have  all 
for  his  own;  you  may  guess  whether  Dr.  Schermer- 
horn  was  interested. 

" '  That  iss  for  which  we  haf  so-long-in-vain 
sought,  Percy/  he  said  to  me  in  his  quaint,  link-chain 
style  of  speech.  '  A  leedle  prifate  volcano-laboratory 
to  ourselves  to  have.  Totally  unknown:  undescribed, 
not-on-the-chart-to-be-found.  To-morrow  we  start.  I 
make  a  list  of  the  things-to-get.' 

"  He  began  his  list,  as  I  remember,  with  three  dozen 
undershirts,  a  gallon  of  pennyroyal  for  insect  bites,  a 
box  of  assorted  fish  hooks,  thirty  pounds  of  tea,  and  a . 


266  THE    MYSTERY 

case  of  carpet  tacks.  When  I  hadn't  anything  else  to 
worry  over,  I  used  to  lie  awake  at  night  and  speculate 
on  the  purpose  of  those  carpet  tacks.  He  had  some 
thing  in  mind:  if  there  was  anything  on  which  he 
prided  himself,  it  was  his  practical  bent.  But  the  list 
never  got  any  further:  it  ceased  short  of  one  page  in 
the  ledger,  as  you  may  have  noticed.  I  outfitted  by 
telegraph  on  the  way  across  the  continent. 

"The  doctor  didn't  ask  me  whether  I'd  go.  He 
took  it  for  granted.  That's  probably  why  I  didn't  back 
out.  Nor  did  I  tell  him  that  the  three  life  insurance 
companies  which  had  foolishly  and  trustingly  ac 
cepted  me  as  a  risk  merely  on  the  strength  of  a  good 
constitution  were  making  frantic  efforts  to  compro 
mise  on  the  policies.  They  felt  hurt,  those  companies : 
my  healthy  condition  had  ceased  to  appeal  to  them. 
What's  a  good  constitution  between  earthquakes?  No, 
there  was  no  use  telling  the  doctor.  It  would  only 
have  worried  him.  Besides,  I  didn't  believe  that  the 
island  was  there.  I  thought  it  was  a  myth  of  that 
stranded  ancient  mariner's  imagination.  When  it  rose 
to  sight  at  the  proper  spot,  none  were  more  astounded 
than  the  bad  risk  who  now  addresses  you. 

"  Yet,  I  must  say  for  the  island  that  it  came  hand 
somely  up  to  specifications.  Down  where  you  were, 
Slade,  you  didn't  get  a  real  insight  into  its  disposition. 
But  in  back  of  us  there  was  any  kind  of  action  for 
your  money.  Geysers,  hell-spouts,  fuming  fissures, 
cunning  little  craterlets  with  half-portions  of  molten 
lava  ready  to  serve  hot;  more  gases  than  you  could 
create  in  all  the  world's  chemical  laboratories :  in  fact, 
everything  to  make  the  place  a  paradise  for  Old  Nick 


?gPf :'  ^f       W^ 

"  It  was  my  duty  to  follow  on  and  drag  him  away  when 
he  fell  unconscious  " 


THE    MAKER    OF   MARVELS          267 

— and  Dr.  Schermerhorn.  He  brought  along  in  his 
precious  chest,  besides  the  radium,  some  sort  of 
raw  material :  also,  as  near  as  I  could  make  out,  a 
sort  of  cage  or  guardianship  scheme  for  his  concen 
trated  essence  of  cussedness,  when  he  should  get  it  out 
of  the  volcano. 

"  In  the  first  seven  months  he  puttered  around  the 
little  fumers,  with  an  occasional  excursion  up  to  the 
main  crater.  It  was  my  duty  to  follow  on  and  drag  him 
away  when  he  fell  unconscious.  Sometimes  I  would 
try  to  get  him  before  he  was  quite  gone.  Then  he 
would  become  indignant,  and  fight  me.  Perhaps  that 
helped  to  lose  me  his  confidence.  More  and  more  he 
withdrew  into  himself.  There  were  days  when  he 
spoke  no  word  to  me.  It  was  lonely.  Do  you  know 
why  I  used  to  visit  you  at  the  beach,  Slade  ?  I  suppose 
you  thought  I  was  keeping  watch  on  you.  It  wasn't 
that,  it  was  loneliness.  In  a  way,  it  hurt  me,  too :  for 
one  couldn't  help  but  be  fond  of  the  old  boy;  and  at 
times  it  seemed  as  if  he  weren't  quite  himself.  Pardon 
me,  if  I  may  trouble  you  for  the  matches? 
Thanks.  .  .  . 

"  Matters  went  very  wrong  at  times :  the  doctor 
fumed  like  his  little  craters ;  growled  out  long-winded, 
exhaustive  German  imprecations:  wouldn't  even  eat. 
Then  again  the  demon  of  work  would  drive  him 
with  thong  and  spur :  he  would  rush  to  his  craters,  to 
his  laboratories,  to  his  ledger  for  the  purpose  of  enter 
ing  unintelligible  commentaries.  He  had  some  pecu 
liar  contrivance,  like  a  misshapen  retort,  with  which 
he  collected  gases  from  the  craterlets.  Whenever  I'd 
hear  one  of  those  smash,  I  knew  it  was  a  bad  day. 


268  THE    MYSTERY 

Meantime,  the  volcano  also  became — well,  what  you 
might  call  temperamental. 

"  It  got  to  be  a  year  and  a  quarter — a  year  and  a 
half.  I  wondered  whether  we  should  ever  get  away. 
My  tobacco  was  running  short.  And  the  bearing  of 
the  men  was  becoming  fidgetty.  My  visits  to  the  beach 
became  quite  interesting — to  me.  One  day  the  doctor 
came  running  out  of  his  laboratory  with  so  bright  a 
face  that  I  ventured  to  ask  him  about  departure. 

"  '  Not  so  long,  now,  Percy/  he  said,  in  his  old, 
kind  manner.  '  Not  so  long.  The  first  real  success.  It 
iss  made.  We  have  yet  under-entire-control  to  bring 
it,  but  it  iss  made/ 

"  '  And  about  time,  sir/  said  I.  '  If  we  don't  do 
something  soon  we  may  have  trouble  with  the  men/ 

"  l  So  ?  '  said  he  in  surprise.  *  But  they  could  do 
nothing.  Nothing/  He  wagged  his  great  head  confi 
dently.  '  We  are  armed/ 

"  '  Oh,  yes,  armed.   So  are  they/ 

"  '  We  are  armed/  he  repeated  obstinately.  '  Such 
as  no  man  was  ever  armed,  are  we  armed/ 

"  He  checked  himself  abruptly  and  walked  away. 
Well,  I've  since  wondered  what  would  have  happened 
had  the  men  attacked  us.  It  would  have  been  worth 
seeing,  and — and  surprising.  Yes:  I'm  quite  certain 
it  would  have  been  surprising.  Perhaps,  too,  I  might 
have  learned  more  of  the  Great  Secret  .  .  .  and 
yet,  I  don't  know.  It's  all  dark  ...  a  hint 
here  .  .  .  theory  .  .  .  mere  glints  of  light. 
.  .  .  Where  did  I  put  .  .  .  Ah,  thank  you." 


IX 

THE   ACHIEVEMENT 

FOR  some  moments  Darrow  sat  gazing  fixedly  at  the 
table  before  him.  His  cigarette  tip  glowed  and  failed. 
Someone  suggested  drinks.  The  captain  asked  Dar 
row  what  he  would  have,  but  the  question  went  un 
noted. 

"  How  I  passed  the  next  six  months  I  could  hardly 
tell  you,"  he  began  again,  quite  abruptly.  "  At  times 
I  was  bored — fearfully  bored.  Yet  the  element  of  mys 
tery,  of  uncertainty,  of  underlying  peril,  gave  a  certain 
zest  to  the  affair.  In  the  periods  of  dulness  I  found 
some  amusement  in  visiting  the  lower  camp  and  bait 
ing  the  Nigger.  Slade  will  have  told  you  about  him; 
he  possessed  quite  a  fund  of  bastard  Voodooism :  he 
possessed  more  before  I  got  through  with  him.  Yes; 
if  he  had  lived  to  return  to  his  country,  I  fancy  he 
would  have  added  considerably  to  Afro-American 
witch-lore.  You  remember  the  vampire  bats,  Slade? 
And  the  devil-fires  ?  Naturally  I  didn't  mention  to  you 
that  the  devil-fire  business  wasn't  altogether  as  clear 
to  me  as  I  pretended.  It  wasn't,  though.  But  at  the 
time  it  served  very  well  as  an  amusement.  All  the 
while  I  realised  that  my  self-entertainment  was 
not  without  its  element  of  danger,  too :  I  remember 
glances  not  altogether  friendly  but  always  a  little 
doubtful,  a  little  awed.  Even  Handy  Solomon,  prac- 

269 


270  THE    MYSTERY 

tical  as  he  was,  had  a  scruple  or  two  of  superstition 
in  his  make-up,  on  which  one  might  work.  Only 
Eagen — Slade,  I  mean — was  beyond  me  there.  You 
puzzled  me  not  a  little  in  those  days,  Slade. 
Well  .  .  . 

"  Did  I  say  that  I  was  sometimes  annoyed  by  the 
doctor's  attitude?  Yes:  it  seemed  that  he  might 
have  given  me  a  little  more  of  his  confidence ;  but  one 
can't  judge  such  a  man  as  he  was.  Among  the  ordi 
nary  affairs  of  life  he  had  relied  on  me  for  every  de 
tail.  Now  he  was  independent  of  me.  Independent!  I 
doubt  if  he  remembered  my  existence  at  times.  Even 
in  his  blackest  moods  of  depression  he  was  sufficient 
unto  himself.  It  was  strange.  .  .  .  How  he  did 
rage  the  day  the  chemicals  from  Washington  went 
wrong!  I  was  washing  my  shirt  in  the  hot  water 
spring  when  he  came  bolting  out  of  the  laboratory 
and  keeled  me  over.  I  came  out  pretty  indignant. 
Apologise?  Not  at  all.  He  just  sputtered.  His  near 
est  approach  to  coherence  seemed  to  indicate  a  desire 
that  I  should  go  back  to  Washington  at  once  and  de 
stroy  a  perfectly  reputable  firm  of  chemists.  Finally 
he  calmed  down  and  took  it  out  in  entering  it  in  his 
daily  record.  He  was  quite  proud  of  that  daily  record 
and  remembered  to  write  in  it  on  an  average  of  once  a 
week. 

"Then  the  chest  went  wrong.  Whether  it  had 
rusted  a  bit,  or  whether  the  chemicals  had  got  in  their 
work  on  the  hinges,  I  don't  know;  but  one  day  the 
Professor,  of  his  own  initiative,  recognised  my  exist 
ence  by  lugging  his  box  out  in  the  open  and  asking 
me  to  fix  it.  Previously  he  had  emptied  it.  It  was 


THE   ACHIEVEMENT  271 

rather  a  complicated  thing,  with  an  inner  compart 
ment  over  which  was  a  hollow  cover,  opening  along 
one  rim.  That,  I  conjectured,  was  designed  to  hold 
some  chemical  compound  or  salt.  There  were  many 
minor  openings,  too,  each  guarded  by  a  similar 
hollow  door.  My  business  was  with  the  heavy  top 
cover. 

"  '  It  should  shut  and  open  softly,  gently/  explained 
the  Professor.  '  So.  Not  with-a-grating-sound-to-be- 
accompanied,'  he  added,  with  his  curious  effect  of 
linked  phraseology. 

"  Half  a  day's  work  fixed  it.  The  lid  would  stand 
open  of  itself  until  tipped  at  a  considerable  angle, 
when  it  would  fall  and  lock.  Only  on  the  outer  shell 
was  there  a  lock:  that  one  was  a  good  bit  of  crafts 
manship. 

'  So,  Percy,  my  boy,'  said  the  doctor  kindly. 
'  That  will  with-sufficient-safety  guard  our  treasure. 
When  we  obtain  it,  Percy.  When  it  entirely-finished- 
and-completed  shall  be.' 

"  '  And  when  will  that  be? '  I  asked. 
t  God  knows,'  he  said  cheerfully.  '  It  progresses/ 

"  Whenever  I  went  strolling  at  night,  he  would  pro 
duce  his  curious  lights.  Sometimes  they  were  fairly 
startling.  One  fact  I  made  out  by  accident,  looking 
down  from  a  high  place.  They  did  not  project  from 
the  laboratory.  He  always  worked  in  the  open  when 
the  light  was  to  be  produced.  Once  the  experiment 
took  a  serious  turn.  The  lights  had  flickered  and 
gone.  Dr.  Schermerhorn  had  returned  to  his  labora 
tory.  I  came  up  the  arroyo  as  he  flung  the  door  open 
and  rushed  out.  He  was  a  grotesque  figure,  clad  in 


272  THE    MYSTERY 

an  undershirt  and  a  worn  pair  of  trousers,  fastened 
with  an  old  bit  of  tarred  rope  in  lieu  of  his  suspenders, 
which  I  had  been  repairing.  About  his  waist  flickered 
a  sort  of  aura  of  radiance  which  was  extinguished  as 
he  flung  himself  headforemost  into  the  cold  spring. 
I  hauled  him  out.  He  seemed  dazed.  To  my  questions 
he  replied  only  by  mumblings,  the  burden  of  which 
was: 

"  '  I  do  not  understand.  It  is  a  not-to-be-compre 
hended  accident/  It  appears  that  he  didn't  quite  know 
why  he  had  taken  to  the  water.  Or  if  he  did,  he  didn't 
want  to  tell. 

"  Next  day  he  was  as  good  as  new.  Just  as  silent 
as  before,  but  it  was  a  smiling,  satisfied  silence.  So  it 
went  for  weeks,  for  months,  with  the  accesses  of  de 
pression  and  anger  always  rarer.  Then  came  an  after 
noon  when,  returning  from  a  stalk  after  sheep,  I  heard 
strange  and  shocking  noises  from  the  laboratory. 
Strict  as  was  the  embargo  which  kept  me  outside  the 
door,  I  burst  in,  only  to  be  seized  in  a  suffocating 
grip.  Of  a  sudden  I  realised  that  I  was  being  em 
braced.  The  doctor  flourished  a  hand  above  my 
head  and  jigged  with  ponderous  steps.  The  dismal 
noises  continued  to  emanate  from  his  mouth.  He  was 
singing.  I  wish  I  could  give  you  a  notion  of  the 
amazement,  the  paralysing  wonder  with  which.  .  .  . 
No,  you  did  not  know  Dr.  Schermerhorn :  you  would 
not  understand.  .  .  . 

"  We  polkaed  into  the  open.  There  he  cast  me  loose. 
He  stopped  singing  and  burst  into  a  rhapsody  of  dis 
jointed  words.  Mostly  German,  it  was — a  wondrous 
jumble  of  the  scientific  and  poetic.  *  Eureka '  occurred 


THE   ACHIEVEMENT  273 

at  intervals.  Then  he  would  leap  in  the  air.  It  was 
weird,  it  was  distressing.  Crazy?  Oh,  quite.  For  the 
time,  you  understand.  If  any  of  us  should  suddenly 
become  the  most  potent  individual  in  the  world, 
wouldn't  he  be  apt  to  lose  balance  temporarily?  One 
must  make  allowances.  There  was  excuse  for  the 
doctor.  He  had  reached  the  goal. 

"  '  Percy,  you  shall  be  rewarded/  he  said.  '  You 
haf  like-a-trump-card  stuck  by  me.  You  shall  haf 
riches,  gold,  what  you  will.  You  are  young;  your 
blood  runs  red.  With  such  riches  nothing  is  beyond 
you.  You  could  the  ancient-tombs-of-Egypt  explore. 
It  is  open  to  you  such  collections-as-have-never-been- 
gathered  to  make.  What  shall  it  be?  Scarabs?  Mis 
sals?  Prehistoric  implements?  Amuse  yourself,  mein 
kind.  We  shall  be  able  the-bills-with-usurious-interest 
to  pay.  What  will  you  haf?' 

"  I  said  I'd  like  a  vacation,  if  convenient. 

"  *  Presently,'  he  replied.  *  There  yet  remains  the 
guardianship  to  be  perfected.  Then  to-a-world-aston- 
ished-and-respectful  we  return.  To-night  we  celebrate. 
I  play  you  a  rubber  of  pinochle.' 

"  We  played.  With  the  greatest  secret  of  science 
resting  at  our  elbows,  we  played.  The  doctor  won; 
my  mind  was  not  strictly  on  the  game.  In  the  morn 
ing  the  doctor  sang  once  more.  ...  I  shall  never 
hear  its  like  again.  Was  it  a  week,  or  a  month, 
after  that?  ...  I  cannot  remember.  I  fancy  I  was 
excited.  Then,  too,  there  was  something  in  the  atmos 
phere  about  the  laboratory  ...  I  don't  know; 
imagination,  possibly.  Once  we  had  a  little  manifesta 
tion:  the  night  that  the  Nigger  and  Slade  were  terri- 


274  THE    MYSTERY 

fied  by  the  rock  fires.  Days  of  excitement  and  pleasant 
work,  with  the  little  volcano  grumbling  more  sulkily 
all  the  time  ...  I  have  spent  worse  days. 

"  Such  indifference  as  the  doctor  displayed  toward 
the  volcano  I  have  never  known.  If  I  ventured  to 
warn  him  he  would  assure  me  that  there  was  no  cause 
for  alarm.  I  think  he  regarded  that  little  hell's  kitchen 
as  merely  a  feed-spout  for  his  vast  enterprise.  He  felt 
a  sort  of  affection  toward  it;  he  was  tolerant  of  its 
petty  fits  of  temper.  That  he  completed  his  work  be 
fore  the  destruction  came  was  sheer  luck.  Nothing 
else.  The  day  before  the  outburst  he  came  to  me  with 
a  tiny  phial  of  complicated  design. 

" '  Percy,  I  will  at-a-reasonable-price  sell  this  to 
you/  he  said. 

"  '  How  much  ?  '  I  inquired,  responding  to  his  play 
fulness. 

"  l  A  bargain,'  he  cried  gaily.  *  Five  millions  dol 
lars.  No!  Shall  I  upon-a-needy-friend  hard-press? 
Never.  One  million.  One  little  million  dollars.' 

"  '  I  haven't  that  amount  with  me,'  I  began. 

" '  Of  no  account,'  he  declared  airily.  '  Soon  we 
shall  haf  many  more  times  as  that.  Gif  me  your  C. 
O.  D.' 

"'My  I.  O.  U.?'  I  inquired. 

"  '  It  makes  no  matter.  See.  I  will  gif  it  to  you 
gratis.' 

"  He  handed  me  the  metal  contrivance.  It  was 
closed. 

"  '  Inside  iss  a  little,  such  a  very  little.  Not  yet  iss 
it  arranged  the  motive-power  to  give-forth.  One  more 
change-to-be-made  that  shall  require.  But  the  other 


THE   ACHIEVEMENT  275 

phenomena  are  all  in  this  little  half-grain  comprised. 
Later  I  shall  tell  you  more.  Take  it.  It  iss  without 
price/  He  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder.  *  Like  the 
love  of  friends/  he  said  gently." 

Feeling  in  his  upper  waistcoat  pocket,  Darrow 
brought  out  a  phial,  so  tiny  that  it  rolled  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand.  He  contemplated  it,  lost  in  thought. 

"  Radium  ?  "  queried  Barnett,  with  the  keen  interest 
of  the  scientist. 

"  God  knows  what  it  is,"  said  Darrow,  rousing  him 
self.  "Not  the  perfected  product;  the  doctor  said 
that  when  he  gave  it  to  me.  If  I  could  remember  one- 
tenth  of  what  he  told  me  that  night !  It  is  like  a  dis 
ordered  dream,  a  phantasmagoria  of  monstrous 
powers,  lit  up  with  an  intolerable,  almost  an  infernal 
radiance.  This  much  I  did  gather:  that  Dr.  Scher- 
merhorn  had  achieved  what  the  greatest  minds 
before  him  had  barely  outlined.  Yes,  and  more. 
Becquerel,  the  Curies,  Rutherford — they  were  play 
ing  with  the  letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet,  Alphas, 
Gammas,  and  Rhos,  while  the  simple,  gentle  old  boy 
that  I  served  had  read  the  secret.  From  the  molten 
eruptions  of  the  racked  earth  he  had  taken  gases  and 
potencies  that  are  nameless.  By  what  methods  of  com 
bination  and  refining  I  do  not  know,  he  produced 
something  that  was  to  be  the  final  word  of  power. 
Control — control — that  was  all  that  lacked. 

"  Reduced  to  its  simplest  terms,  it  meant  this :  the 
doctor  had  something  as  much  greater  than  radium 
as  radium  is  greater  than  the  pitchblende  of  which  a 
thousand  tons  are  melted  down  to  the  one  ounce  of 
extract.  And  the  incredible  energies  of  this  he  pro- 


276  THE    MYSTERY 

posed  to  divide  into  departments  of  activity.  One 
manifestation  should  be  light,  a  light  that  would  il 
luminate  the  world.  Another  was  to  make  motive 
power  so  cheap  that  the  work  of  the  world  could  be 
done  in  an  hour  out  of  the  day.  Some  idea  he  had  of 
healing  properties.  Yes;  he  was  to  cure  mankind.  Or 
kill,  kill  as  no  man  had  ever  killed,  did  he  choose.  The 
armies  and  navies  of  the  powers  would  be  at  his  mercy. 
Magnetism  was  to  be  his  slave.  Aerial  navigation, 
transmutation  of  metals,  the  screening  of  gravity — 
does  this  sound  like  delirium?  Sometimes  I  think  it 
was. 

"  That  night  he  turned  over  to  me  the  key  of  the 
large  chest  and  his  ledger.  The  latter  he  bade  me  read. 
It  was  a  complete  jumble.  You  have  seen  it.  .  .  . 
We  were  up  a  good  part  of  the  night  with  our  pet 
volcano.  It  was  suffering  from  internal  disturbances. 
'  So/  the  doctor  would  say  indulgently,  when  a 
particularly  active  rock  came  bounding  down  our  way. 
*  Little  play-antics-to-exhibit  now  that  the  work  iss 
finished/ 

"  In  the  morning  he  insisted  on  my  leaving  him 
alone  and  going  down  to  give  the  orders.  I  took  the 
ledger,  intending  to  send  it  aboard.  It  saved  my  life 
possibly:  Solomon's  bullet  deflected  slightly,  I  think, 
in  passing  through  the  heavy  paper.  Slade  has  told 
you  about  my  flight.  I  ought  to  have  gone  straight 
up  the  arroyo.  .  .  .  Yet  I  could  hardly  have 
made  it.  ...  I  did  not  see  him  again,  the  doctor. 
My  last  glimpse  .  .  .  the  old  man — I  remember 
now  how  the  grey  had  spread  through  his  beard — 
he  was  growing  old — it  had  been  ageing  labour.  He 


THE   ACHIEVEMENT  277 

stood  there  at  his  laboratory  door  and  the  mountain 
spouted  and  thundered  behind. 

"  *  We  will  a  name-to-suit-properly  gif  it/  he  said, 
as  I  left  him.  '  It  shall  make  us  as  the  gods.  We  will 
call  it  celestium/ 

"  I  left  him  there  smiling.  Smiling  happily.  The 
greatest  force  of  his  age — if  he  had  lived.  Very  wise, 
very  simple — a  kind  old  child.  May  I  trouble  you  for 
a  light?  Thanks." 


X 

THE   DOOM 

"  NOTHING  remained  but  to  search  for  his  body.  I  was 
sure  they  had  killed  him  and  taken  the  chest.  I  had 
little  expectation  of  finding  him,  dead  or  alive.  None 
after  I  saw  the  stream  of  lava  pouring  into  the  sea. 
One  saves  his  own  life  by  instinct,  I  suppose.  There 
I  was.  I  had  to  live.  It  did  not  matter  much,  but  I 
continued  to  do  it  by  various  shifts.  That  last  day  on 
the  headland  the  fumes  nearly  got  me.  You  may 
have  noted  the  rather  excited  scrawl  in  the  back  of 
the  ledger?  Yes,  I  thought  I  was  gone  that  time.  But 
I  got  to  the  cave.  It  was  low  tide.  Then  the  earth 
quake,  and  I  was  walled  in.  ...  Mr.  Barnett's 
very  accurate  explosives — Slade's  insistence — your 
risking  your  lives  as  you  did,  mites  on  the  crust 
of  a  red-hot  cheese — I  hope  you  know  how  I  feel 
about  it  all.  One  can't  thank  a  man  properly  for  the 
life  ... 

"  Oh,  the  pirates.  Necessarily  it  must  be  a  matter 
of  theory,  but  I  think  we  have  it  right.  Slade  and  I 
built  it  up.  For  what  it's  worth,  here  it  is.  Let  me 
see:  you  sighted  the  glow  on  the  night  of  the  2d. 
Next  day  came  the  deserted  ship.  It  must  have  puz 
zled  you  outrageously." 

"  It  did,"  said  Captain  Parkinson,  drily. 

278 


THE    DOOM  279 

"  Not  an  easy  problem,  even  with  all  the  data  at 
hand.  You,  of  course,  had  none.  On  Slade's  showing, 
Handy  Solomon  and  his  worthy  associates  thought 
they  had  a  chest  full  of  riches  when  they  got  the 
doctor's  treasure;  believed  they  owned  the  machiner) 
for  making  diamonds  or  gold  or  what-not  of  ready-to- 
hand  wealth.  It's  fair  to  assume  a  certain  eagerness 
on  their  part.  Disturbed  weather  keeps  them  busy  un 
til  they're  well  out  from  the  island.  Then  to  the  chest. 
Opening  it  isn't  so  easy:  I  had  the  key,  you  know." 
He  brought  a  curious  and  delicately  wrought  skeleton 
from  his  pocket.  "  Tipped  with  platinum,"  he  ob 
served.  "  Rather  a  gem  of  a  key,  I  think.  You  see, 
there  must  have  been  some  action,  even  through  the 
keyhole,  or  he  wouldn't  have  used  a  metal  of  this  kind. 
But  the  crew  was  rich  in  certain  qualities,  it  seems, 
which  I  failed,  stupidly,  to  recognise  in  my  acquain 
tance  with  them.  Both  Pulz  and  Perdosa  appear  to 
have  been  handy  men  where  locks  were  concerned. 
First  Pulz  sneaks  down  and  has  his  turn  at  the  chest. 
He  gets  it  open.  Small  profit  for  him  in  that :  the  next 
we  know  of  him  he  is  scandalising  Handy  Solomon  by 
having  a  fit  on  the  deck." 

"  That  is  what  I  couldn't  figure  out  to  save  my 
life,"  said  Slade  eagerly. 

"  If  you  recollect,  I  told  you  of  the  Professor's 
plunge  in  the  cold  spring,  in  a  sort  of  paroxysm,  one 
day,"  said  Darrow.  "  That  was  the  physiological  ac 
tion  of  the  celestium.  At  other  times,  I  have  seen  him 
come  out  and  deliberately  roll  in  the  creek,  head  un 
der.  Once  he  explained  that  the  medium  he  worked  in 
caused  a  kind  of  uncontrollable  longing  for  water; 


280  THE    MYSTERY 

something  having  none  of  the  qualities  of  burning 
or  thirst,  but  an  irresistible  temporary  mania.  It  wor 
ried  him  a  good  deal;  he  didn't  understand  it.  That, 
then,  was  what  ailed  Pulz.  When  he  opened  the  chest 
there  was,  as  I  surmise,  a  trifling  quantity  of  this  stuff 
lying  in  the  inner  lid.  It  wasn't  the  celestium  itself, 
as  I  imagine,  but  a  sort  of  by-product  with  the 
physiological  and  radiant  effects  of  the  real  thing,  and 
it  had  been  set  there  on  guard,  a  discouragement  to 
the  spirit  of  investigation,  as  it  were.  So,  when  the 
top  was  lifted,  our  little  guardian  gets  in  its  work, 
producing  the  light  phenomenon  that  so  puzzled 
Slade,  and  inspiring  Pulz  with  a  passion  for  the  roll 
ing  wave,  which  is  only  interrupted  by  Handy  Solo 
mon's  tackling  him.  As  he  fled  he  must  have  pulled 
down  the  cover." 

"  He  did,"  said  Slade.  "  I  heard  the  clang.  But  I 
saw  the  radiance  on  the  clouds.  And  the  whole  thick 
ness  of  a  solid  oak  deck  was  in  between  the  sky  and 
the  chest." 

"  Oh,  a  little  thing  like  an  oak  deck  wouldn't  in 
terrupt  the  kind  of  rays  the  doctor  used.  He  had 
his  own  method  of  screening,  you  understand.  How 
ever,  this  inconsiderable  guardian  affair  must  have 
used  itself  up,  which  true  celestium  wouldn't  have 
done.  So  when  Perdosa  sets  his  genius  for  lock-pick 
ing  to  the  task,  the  inner  box,  full  of  the  genuine  ar 
ticle,  has  no  warning  sign-post,  so  to  speak.  Every 
thing's  peaceful  until  they  raise  the  compound-filled 
hollow  layer  of  the  inner  cover,  which  serves  to  inter 
rupt  the  action.  Then  comes  the  general  exit  and  the 
superior  fireworks." 


THE    DOOM  281 

"  That's  when  the  rays  ran  through  the  ship,"  said 
Slade.  "  It  seemed  to  follow  the  deck-lines." 

"  Tfre  stuff  had  a  strange  affinity  for  tar,"  said  Dar- 
row.  "  I  told  you  of  the  circle  of  fire  about  Professor 
Schermerhorn's  waist  the  day  he  gave  me  such  a  scare. 
That  was  the  celestium  working  on  the  tarred  rope  he 
wore  for  a  belt.  It  made  a  livid  circle  on  his  skin. 
Did  I  tell  you  of  his  experiments  with  pitch  ?  It  doesn't 
matter.  Where  was  I  ?  " 

"  At  the  place  where  we  all  jumped,"  said  Slade. 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  you  dove  into  the  small  boat,  trying 
to  reach  the  water." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  Barnett.  "  If  that  was  the  ex 
hibition  of  radiance  we  saw,  it  died  out  in  a  few 
minutes.  How  was  that?  Did  they  close  the  chest  be 
fore  they  ran  ?  " 

"  Probably  not,"  replied  Darrow.  "  Slade  spoke  of 
Pulz  taking  to  the  maintop  and  being  shaken  out  by 
the  sudden  shock  of  a  wave.  That  may  have  been  a 
volcanic  billow.  Whatever  it  was,  it  undoubtedly 
heeled  the  ship  sufficiently  to  bring  down  both  lids, 
which  were  rather  delicately  balanced." 

"  Yes,  for  Billy  Edwards  found  the  chest  closed 
and  locked,"  said  Barnett. 

"  Of  course ;  it  was  a  spring  lock.  You  sent  Mr. 
Edwards  and  his  men  aboard.  No  such  experts  as 
Pulz  or  Perdosa  were  in  your  crew.  Consequently  it 
took  longer  to  get  the  chest  open.  When  at  length 
the  lid  was  raised,  there  was  a  repetition  of  the 
tragedy.  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  men  leaped.  Probably 
they  were  paralysed  almost  before  they  struck  the 
water.  Your  bos'n^  whom  Slade  picked  up,  was  the 


282  THE    MYSTERY 

only  one  who  had  time  even  to  grab  a  life  preserver 
before  the  impulse  toward  water  became  irresistible. 
There  was  no  element  of  fright,  you  understand:  no 
desertion  of  their  post.  They  were  dragged  as  by  the 
sweep  of  a  tornado."  Darrow  spoke  direct  to  Captain 
Parkinson.  "  If  there  is  any  feeling  among  you  other 
than  sorrow  for  their  death,  it  is  unjust  and  un 
worthy." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Darrow,"  returned  the  captain 
quietly. 

"  We  found  the  chest  closed  again  when  the  empty 
ship  came  back,"  observed  Barnett. 

"  Being  masterless,  the  schooner  began  to  yaw," 
continued  Darrow.  "  The  first  time  she  came  about 
would  have  heeled  her  enough  to  shut  the  chest.  Now 
came  the  turn  of  your  other  men." 

"  Ives  and  McGuire,"  said  the  Captain,  as  Darrow 
paused. 

"  The  glow  came  again  that  night,  and  the  next 
day  we  picked  up  Slade,"  said  Barnett. 

"  You  know  what  the  glow  meant  for  your  com 
panions,"  said  Darrow. 

"  But  the  ship.  The  Laughing  Lass,  man.  She's 
vanished.  No  one  has  seen  her  since." 

"  You  are  wrong  there,"  said  Darrow.  "  I  have 
seen  her." 

In  a  common  impulse  the  little  circle  leaned  to 
him. 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  her.  I  wish  I  had  not.  Let  me 
bring  my  story  back  to  the  cave  on  the  island.  After 
the  volcanic  gases  had  driven  me  to  the  refuge,  I  sat 
near  the  mouth  of  the  cave  looking  out  into  the  dark- 


THE    DOOM  283 

ness.  That  was  the  night  of  the  7th,  the  night  you 
saw  the  last  glow.  It  was  very  dark,  except  for  occa 
sional  bursts  of  fire  from  the  crater.  Judge  of  my 
incredulous  amazement  when,  in  an  access  of  this  il 
lumination,  I  saw  plainly  a  schooner  hardly  a  mile  off 
shore,  coming  in  under  bare  poles." 

"  Under  bare  poles?  "  cried  Slade. 

"  The  halliards  must  have  disintegrated  from  some 
slow  action  of  the  celestium.  It  could  be  destructive: 
terrifically  destructive.  You  shall  judge.  There  was 
the  schooner,  naked  as  your  hand.  Possibly  I  might 
have  thought  it  a  hallucination  but  for  what  came 
after.  Darkness  fell  again.  I  supposed  then  that 
Handy  Solomon's  crew  were  managing — or  misman 
aging — the  Laughing  Lass  without  the  aid  of  their 
leader,  whom  I  had  satisfactorily  buried.  I  hoped  they 
would  come  ashore  on  the  rocks.  Yes  I  was  venge 
ful  ...  then. 

"  Of  a  sudden  there  sprang  from  the  darkness  a 
ship  of  light.  You  have  all  seen  those  great  electric 
effects  at  expositions.  Someone  touches  a  button 
.  .  .  you  know.  It  was  like  that.  Only  that  the 
piercingly  brilliant  jewelled  wonder  of  a  ship  was  set 
in  the  midst  of  a  swirl  of  vari-coloured  radiance  such 
as  I  can't  begin  to  describe.  You  saw  it  from  a  dis 
tance.  Imagine  what  it  was,  coming  close  upon  you 
that  way — dead  on,  out  of  the  night.  A  living  glory, 
a  living  terror.  .  .  ." 

His  voice  sank.  With  a  shaking  hand  he  fumbled 
amid  his  cigarette  papers. 

"  It  came  on.  A  human  figure,  glowing  like  a  dia 
mond  ablaze,  leaped  out  from  it;  another  shot  down 


284  THE    MYSTERY 

from  the  foremast.  I  don't  know  how  many  I  saw 
go.  It  was  like  a  theatric  effect,  unreal,  unconvincing, 
incredible.  The  end  fitted  it." 

Darrow's  eye  roved.  It  fell  upon  a  quaintly  mod 
elled  ship,  hung  above  the  door. 

"What's  that?"  he  cried. 

"  Fool  thing  some  Malay  gave  me,"  grunted  Tren- 
don.  "  Pretended  to  be  grateful  because  I  cut  his  foot 
off.  No  good.  Go  on  with  the  story." 

"No  good?  You  don't  care  what  happens  to  it?" 

"  Meant  to  heave  it  overboard  before  now,"  growled 
the  other. 

Someone  handed  it  down  to  Darrow. 

"  If  I  had  something  to  hold  enough  water,"  mut 
tered  he,  "  I'd  like  to  float  it.  I'd  like  to  see  for  myself 
how  it  worked  out.  I'd  like  to  see  that  devil-work  in 
action." 

He  spoke  feverishly. 

"  Boy,  fill  the  portable  rubber  tub  in  Mr.  Forsythe's 
cabin  and  bring  it  here,"  ordered  the  captain. 

"  That  will  do."  said  Darrow,  recovering  him 
self. 

He  floated  the  model  in  the  tub. 

"  Now,  I  don't  know  how  this  will  come  out,"  he 
said.  "  Nor  do  I  know  why  the  Laughing  Lass  met 
her  fate  under  Ives  and  McGuire,  and  not  before. 
Perhaps  the  chest  lay  open  longer  .  .  .  long 
enough,  anyway.  We'll  try  it." 

From  his  pocket  he  took  a  curious  small  phial. 

"  Is  that  what  Dr.  Schermerhorn  gave  you  ?  "  asked 
Slade. 

"  Yes,"  said  Darrow.  He  set  it  carefully  inside  the 


He  floated  the  model  in  the  tub 


THE    DOOM  285 

little  model  and  slipped  a  lever.  Slade  quietly  turned 
down  the  light. 

A  faint  glow  shot  up.  It  grew  bright  and  eddied 
in  lovely,  variant  colours.  As  if  set  to  a  powder  train, 
it  ran  through  the  ship.  The  pale  faces  of  the  spec 
tators  shone  ghastly  in  its  radiance.  From  someone 
burst  a  sudden  gasp. 

"  There  is  not  enough  for  danger,"  said  Darrow, 
quietly. 

"  As  a  point  of  interest,"  grunted  Trendon. 

Everyone  looked  at  his  outstretched  hand.  A  little 
pocket  compass  lay  in  the  palm.  The  needle  spun 
madly,  projecting  blue,  vivid  sparklings. 

"  My  God !  "  cried  Slade,  and  covered  his  eyes  for 
a  moment. 

He  snatched  away  his  hands  as  a  suppressed  cry 
went  up  from  the  others. 

"  As  I  expected,"  said  Darrow  quietly. 

The  little  craft  opened  out;  it  disintegrated.  All 
that  radiance  dissolved  and  with  its  going  the  sub 
stance  upon  which  it  shaped  itself  vanished.  The  last 
glow  showed  a  formless  pulp,  spreading  upon  the 
water. 

"  So  passed  the  Laughing  Lass/'  said  Darrow  sol 
emnly. 

"  And  the  chest  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,"  said 
Barnett. 

"  Good  place  for  it,"  muttered  Trendon. 

"  In  all  probability  it  closed  as  the  ship  dissolved 
around  it,"  said  Darrow.  "  Otherwise  we  should  see 
the  effects  in  the  water." 

"  It  might   be   recovered,"   cried   Slade,   excitedly. 


286  THE    MYSTERY 

"  Could  you  chart  it,  Darrow  ?  Think  of  the  possi 
bilities " 

"  Let  it  lie,"  said  the  captain.  "  Has  it  not  cost 
enough?  Let  it  lie." 

The  water  in  the  tub  fumed  and  sparkled  faintly 
and  was  still.  Darkness  fell,  except  where  Darrow's 
cigarette  point  glowed  and  faded. 


THE  END 


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